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Vol. XIX 


Pennsylvania College for Women, Pittsburgh, Pa., October 18, 1939 

No. 1 

Mountain Day, September 30. 

Page Two 



A /■ i '^"^ ARROW 

'^ ' Face Front 

October 18, 1939 

Pennsylvania College for Women 
Pittsburgh, Pa. 

S(ilisci'i|)ti(iii $1.00 per year in advance 

1939 Member 1940 

Plssociofed GoUebidG Press 


National Advertising Service, Inc. 

College PuhlisAers Representative 
A2.0 Madison Ave. New York. N. Y. 

! Chicago ■ Boston • Los Angeles ■ San Francisco 

Editorial Staff 

Co-Editors Bettv Eastwood. '40 

Rachel Kirk, '40 

Business Manager Ruth Fite, '40 

News Editor Nancy Over. '40 

Assistant News Editor Dorothy Evans, '42 

Feature Editor Jo Anne Healey, '41 

Literary Editors Renee Schreyer. '40 

Jean Miller, '42 

Copy Editor Claire Stewart, '42 

Make-up Editor Katherine Rutter. '40 

Proof Readers Jean Hammer. '41 

Louise Haldeman, '43 
Claire Horwitz, '43 

Copy Readers Rose Marie Fillippelll. '43 

Marjorie Nooiian, '43 

]VJake-up Mary Singer, '42 

\ Peggy Wragg. '43 

f News Staff 

Jane Evans, Dorothy Marshall. Lucille Cummings, Jean Sweet, Dotty 
Oliver. Marion Rowell. Helen Waugh, Margai'et Anderson, Mary Ann 
Macky, Betty Ann Morrow, 

Feature Staff 

Helen Schellkopf. Mildred Stewart. Jean Burchinal. Margery Heth. 
Althea Lowe. Betty Brown, Mary Louise Henry. Jeanne Anne Ayres. 
Mary Alice Spellmire. Mary Evelyn Ducey. Janet Ross. Betty 

Business Staff 

Betty Bacon, A!i'0'i Crolt. Peggy Dietz. Jane Fitzpatrick. Eleanor 
Garrett, Virginia Gillespie. Marjorie Higgins. Beth Howard, Jane 
McCall, Mary Jane McCormick, Nancy Scott. Gloria Silverstein. Mary 
Singer, Bizzy Ward, Lois Wirth. 

Jottings in the Margin 

Change-of-face note . . . the stones around O'Neill 
Park, replacing Miss Marks' beloved gray posts . . . the 
newly-shellaced library floor which squeaks beautifully 
under crepe soles . . . the pretty pink gym suits . . . 
What's the matter with the bell? . . . sounds too weak 
to last 'til Thanlisgiving . . . Signs-of-the-decadent- 
times-department . . . the fiendish glee with which most 
students slam down liymn books . . . What with nearly 
everyone scribbling budgets on the backs of themes, it's 
getting so you can't go for cokes without at least one 
member of the party saying, "I don't want any; I'm sav- 
ing for linen!" . . . There's nothing anywhere like fall 
on campus . . . the golden leaves . . . the warm haze 
. . . and the buildings sleeping in the sun. 

Let's start looking at things squarely. Let's stop 
thinking with our prejudices and speaking in catchwords. 
Let's try to see things in the clear light of truth, and, if 
truth is not to be found, let's adopt an intelligently skep- 
tical attitude. 

In Europe, people like us are dying for their beliefs, 
their homes, their stupidities. This Second World War 
is likety to be the most significant event of our lifetime. 
Certainly, it is all-important now. No one, therefore, 
could ask you to disregard affairs abroad, going blithely 
about your neutral business, burying your head in the 
sands of our splendid — and lucky — isolation while the 
pieces of the rest of the world tinkle about your ears. 

No one can ask you not to think. No one wants to. 
But anyone can make a plea for sane judgments based on 
unbiased observation. You might as well face the fact 
that you are not going to get unprejudiced information 
from which to make your observation. We at PCW 
especially will be assailed from all sides; we will receive 
rumors and counter-rumors, assertions and denials; we 
will be attacked througli the newspapers, the radio, the 
lecture platform. 

In the midst of this multiple-propaganda, it is our 
duty as supposedly intelligent young women to try to see 
clearly, think fairly, and smile doubtfully at the official 
statements of botli sides. 

To The Freshmen 

Tomorrow is Color Day. It is more than just an un- 
usually long chapel period, more than the last day fresh- 
men wear arm-bands, more even than a song contest 
among the classes. For tomorrow, the freshmen will be 
officially recognized as the class of 1943. 

With the accepting of the colors, rose and white, your 
class becomes an integral part of the college. You have 
spent six weeks learning PCW's songs, traditions, self- 
governing system' and rules. Up until now, as a class 
you have had little importance and scarcely any voice in 
college affairs. Beginning with tomorrow, liowever, you 
will take your place with the upperclassmen, a full- 
fledged unit in PCW, a rather powerful influence in stu- 
dent concerns. 

Not only will you be recognized tomorrow as a class, 
but also, each one of you will receive a small bow of rose 
and white, a symbol of your personal entrance into PCW 
life. You may have been bewildered, perhaps even un- 
happy, wondering if ever you would find a place in your 
chosen Alma Mater. Now there should be no doubt in 
your mind. You will have a pai-t in shaping student poli- 
cies and opinion; the records you mdke will stand for the 
college. For now you are a part of PCW, and PCW is a 
part of you. 

October 18, 1939 


Page Three 

Burlesque Comedy 
To Be Presented 

Speech Majors Choose 
Early EiigHsh Play 

The Speech Majors' and Minors' 
play, to be given November 17 and 18, 
is Beaumont and Fletcher's Knight of 
the Burning Pestle, first produced in 
1607 by a company of choir boys in 
the Blackfriars Theater. 

The play is a burlesque comedy. 
In fact, it was one of the earliest in 
England. One could almost say it is 
the burlesque of all burlesques. 
Beaumont and Fletcher even make 
fun of their ovi^n styles of writing in 
some of the quasi-serious love lines. 
But mostly it ridicules the popular 
romantic dramas and dying chivalry. 
The Knight is an English Don 
Quixote and does no less absurd feats 
than killing a giant called Barbarossa, 
who is reaUy nothing more than a 
barber whose "captives" are the vic- 
tirhs of his medical practices. So the 
plaiy incidentally gets in a few sly 
pokes at the London citizens them- 
selves. There is a jolly fellow, for 
instance, who never does a thing in 
life but drink and sing and pay no 
attention to his wife's nagging. 

Ilhen there's the penniless, out-of- 
favbr lover, who even loses the girl 
he loves because he "tests" her true 
affection. There are twenty-four 
characters altogether and evei-yone 
funiiy in his own way. But the most 
irnportant thing in the whole play is 
the "audience," who sit on the stage 
and pass judgment during the per- 
forinance. The principal ones are the 
citizen grocer and his wife. They 
not only choose the play and give it 
a title, but insist that their appren- 
tice, Ralph, have the leading role. 
They were quite a new conception in 
the theater and it is in their cleverly 
naive remarks that the chief genius 
of the play rests. As a matter of 
fact, all the speeches are robust and 
packed full of humor, but still re- 
freshingly free of modern sophistica- 

As for the actual production here 
at PCW, it is attracting attention all 
over the city and the educational 
world, because the play has been re- 
vived only three times in this coun- 
try and each time was a great suc- 
cess. The Speech Majors plan to 
have a real Elizabethan production 

Color Day Tomorrow Will Feature 
Frosli Recognition, Song (Contest 

Junior Class President Presents Colors 
To Chairman of Freshmen 

Tomorrow morning, October 19th, the class of 1943 will be formally recog- 
nized by the school and presented with their colors. This important event 
wiU take place in the Chapel, and is scheduled for 11:30. Not only is this a 
"big moment" for the freshmen, but the entire school will join in the cele- 
bration on Color Day. The Junior Class President, Louise Caldwell, will pre- 
sent to the Freshman Class Chairman the colors of the class of 1989. All 
freshmen will be dressed in white, and will individually receive their colors, 
signifying that they have passed their test on the Freshman assemblies, which 
have been presided over by Gladys Patton, the Junior Advisor to Freshmen. 

For the upper classes, perhaps the 
most important part of this occasion 
is the Song Contest, in which the 
freshmen, too, participate. Each 
class sings three songs — one a PCW 
song to be selected on Color Day; one 
with original words and music; and 
one which must have original words, 
but need not have original music. 
This year, the three school songs 
from which one will be chosen for 
the classes to sing are. Hail to Penn- 
sylvania, PCW, The School For Us, 
Sophomore Toast. 

Classes Compete 

Peggy Chi-isty, President of S. G. 
A., will preside over this event. The 
class presidents, the Freshman Chair- 
man acting in this capacity for the 
class of 1943, draw slips for the order 
of singing. Then, each class, follow- 
ing this order, sings all of its songs. 
Immediately after the singing, the 
judges, who have been chosen from 
the faculty, decide upon the worthy 
class, and the award is bestowed. 

Song Committees 

All the classes have worked hard 
for Color Day. Committees which 
have been busily working on the 
songs are: Seniors — chairman, Mary 
Lou Shoemaker, Ann Miller, Au- 
drey Horton, Jane Hanauer, and Ruth 
Mary Arthur; Juniors — chairman, 
Alice Chattaway, Jane Shidemantle, 
Mary Linn Marks, Eleanor Weible, 
and Sue Woolridge; Sophomores — 
chairman, Peggy Matheny, Betty Ga- 
hagan, Claire Stewart, and Mary 
Babb; Freshmen— chairman, Mary 
Evelyn Ducey, Barbara Browne, Mar- 
ion Kieffer, Virginia Ditges, Josette 
Kott, and Althea Lowe. 

PCW Trustee Receives 
Several Honors 

Mr. James E. MacCloskey Jr., the 
second vice-president of the Board of 
Trustees of Pennsylvania College for 
Women and chairman of the Finance 
Committee has recently received sev- 
eral honors. 

He has been named chairman of 
the Board of Directors of the Harbi- 
son-Walker Refractories and a mem- 
ber of the Board of Directors of the 
Union Trust Company, which is one 
of the country's largest banks. 

In addition to being one of Pitts- 
burgh's most prominent attorneys, 
Mr. MacCloskey is an amateur as- 
tronomer and ornithologist. 

with the gallants sitting on the stage 
in the actors' midst. There will be 
a flag to announce scenes and "boys" 
to carry in the scenery. Miss Kerst, 
the Play Production class, the music 
department, and Miss Errett are al- 
ready busy ransacking through the 
archives for music, dances, costumes, 
and old traditions, so the play will 
be authentic. 

Tryouts were held all last week 
and the girls who have been defi- 
nitely chosen are: Marjorie Mehany, 
Aethelburga Schmidt, Mary Evelyn 
Ducey, Jeanne Anne Ayres, Eileen 
Ruth Chapman, Jean Hill, Alice 
Chattaway, Dolores Poster, Marianne 
McAllister, Mary Kinter, Margaret 
Bebertz, Norma Jane Reno, Betty 
Bacon, Alice Provost, Jean Miller, 
Jane Hanauer, Ella Hilbish, Louise 
Caldwell, Peggy Matheny, and Madge 

Page Four 


October 18, 1939 

Wallace Attends 
Chemical Meeting 

Twenty PCW Students 
Participate in Session 

Dr. E. K. Wallace, head of the 
Chemistry Department, attended the 
98th semi-annual National Conven- 
tion of Chemical Societies which was 
held last September in Boston. It 
was chiefly concerned with discussion 
of the preparation necessary for 
chemists and the feats of women 
chemists in the past few years. 

The points concerning the prepa- 
ration of chemists, which were ac- 
cepted, are as follows: five one- 
year chemistry courses; reading abil- 
ity in either German or French — 
both preferred; one course in physics; 
two years of mathematics; and the 
rest in related subjects. 

The morning session was devoted 
to the women chemists, especially 
those prominent in the field of chem- 
istry in the last five years. It was 
found that the majority were doing 
work closely related to the home, 
some examples of these being: work 
iii'a foods laboratory, health labor- 
atory, and medical technicians in 

On Thursday night, September 28, 
the American Chemical society de- 
voted its first meeting to students 
from different colleges. Twenty 
girls from PCW attended. The meet- 
ing gave the students a chance to ad- 
vance their own interests and ideas. 

Fall Dance Committees 
Announce Plans 

Witches, pumpkins, and corn stalks 
will be the decorations for the Junior 
and Senior Fall Dance, to be held in 
the auditorium of Berry Hall, October 
27 from 9 to 12. 

Ellen Marshall, chairman, has 
chosen to assist her: Madge Medlock, 
Nancy Over, Ruth Mangel, Shirley 
Clipson. Mary Kinter, and Jo Anne 

The freshmen and sophomores will 
have their Fall Dance the following 
evening, October 28, at the same time, 
in Berry Hall. Jean Paris is the 
chairman and has named the follow- 
ing persons to be on her committee: 
Jane Chantler, Margaret Graham, 
Jean Miller, Anna Betty Saylor, Vir- 
ginia Speer, Jean De Woody, Cath- 
erine Carey, Ella Hilbish, Louise Wal- 
lace, and Peggy Orr. 

YW Cabinet Introduces 
Freshman Commission 

The YWCA Cabinet officially intro- 
duced the Freshman Commission to 
the active members of the Association 
at a tea, given October 13. The Com- 
mission consists of Jean Archer, 
Cbfinman, Dorothy Kessner, Amy 
McKay, Marjorie Noonan, Marion 
Rowell, Jane Wyre, Brice Black, Dor- 
othy Brooks, Coleen Laurer, and 
Marion KiefEer. 

The Commission has three definite 
plans for this year. The most im- 
portant is to interest the freshmen in 
YW activities. Secondly, they select 
the freshmen who entertain the up- 
per classmen at the fall banquet, and 
they want to refurnish the YW room 
in Berry Hall. 

The Commission is composed of 
members of the freshman class, who 
have been active in their high school 

Brashear Telescope 
Erected On Campus 

A new telescope, given to PCW 
by the Public School System, is being 
erected on the hill beyond the ten- 
nis courts. It was built by John 
Brashear who was formerly in charge 
of the Allegheny Observatory. 

It is seven feet eight inches long 
and has a refractor which is three 
hundred twenty-five times as strong 
as the human eye. 

The telescope will be used by the 
astronomy class and will be ready for 
use in \he near future. 

Dr. Spencer Speaks, 
Attends Conference 

Dr. Herbert L. Spencer will be 
guest speaker for three leading or- 
ganizations during the month of Oc- 

On the 10th he gave the commence- 
ment address for the graduating 
nurses of Columbia Hospital, Wilkins- 

October 17th, found him at Alle- 
gheny General Hospital, Pittsburgh, 
tor another graduation, and on the 
20th of October he will speak before 
the Conference on Education at Buck- 
nell University. 

President Spencer also attended the 
Annual Conference of the State De- 
partment of Public Instruction held 
in Harrisburg for three days, Octo- 
ber 3, 4 and 5. 

Miss Margaret Perry 
Assumes Duties As 
Alumnae Secretary 

Margaret Perry has just replaced 
Elsie McCreery as Secretary of the 
Alumnae Association. Miss Perry, 
who is a member of the class of '38, 
was an English major during her 
years at PCW. Besides being one of 
the school's finest hockey players, 
she belonged to Omega, the German 
Club, and the Glee Club. Outside of 
her busy secretarial life, she has 
charge of an active Girl Scout troop, 
and another girl's organization. This 
week Miss Perry has had the added 
duty of preparing 1,900 invitations to 
the Fall Alumnae Dinner to be held 
at East Liberty Presbyterian Church 
on October 27th. Every member of 
the Alumnae Association and the As- 
sociates are invited to attend this din- 
ner and the very interesting pro- 
gi-am which follows. 

Miss Perry is especially anxious 
to meet all the new students, and 
would welcome a visit from them in 
the Alumnae Office any week-day 

Ruth Clark Chosen 
To Head Y Council 

Ruth Clark '40, has been appoint- 
ed Chairman of the Regional Coun- 
cil of the Student Christian Move- 
ment of the Middle Atlantic States. 
Representatives from the Y. M. C. A. 
and the Y. W. C. A. of the nine-six 
colleges in Pennsylvania, West Vir- 
ginia, Maryland, Delaware, and New 
Jersey participate in the organiza- 

The Council meets twice a year and 
arranges to have speakers visit the 
local schools and institutions in the 
Middle Atlantic region. 

As Chaimian, Ruth will plan the 
assembly of the movement which is 
held annually at Eaglesmere, Pa. She 
presides at the meetings of the Coun- 
cil which arranges Y. M. and Y. W. 
conferences during the year. 

Ruth attended the Intercollegiate 
Christian Convention from August 
30 to September 5, in New York. 
There, the different committees 
worked out plans for the year and 
decided what topics would be dis- 
cussed at future conventions. 

October 18, 1939 


Page Five 

Dr. Scholl 

Dr. Scholl, a newcomer to the fac- 
ulty of PCW, was born on a farm 
near Alvada, Ohio, on March 15, 1908 
. . . He received his early education 
in Alvada and Fostoria, Ohio, and 
continued his quest for knowledge at 
Ashland College where he earned 
his B. S. . . . He then studied at 
Penn State and added the Doctor to 
his name . . . He received an assist- 
antship at Ashland College. 

Dr. Scholl has light brown hair 
and eyes which lie describes as 
greenish-grey . . . He is five feet, 
nine inches tall . . . and weighs one 
hundred and thirty-five pounds . . . 
He teaches college because he likes 
to teach . . . 

He prefers brunettes . . . His fav- 
orite food is good beefsteak with 
mashed potatoes and gravy . . . the 
seasons he prefers are spring and 
autumn ... he enjoys tennis. 

He is a member of Phi Lambda 
Upsilon, honorary chemical frater- 
nity . . . and Sigma Xi, honorary 
science fraternity . . . He was quite 
active in collegiate extra-curricular 
affairs, having participated in the 
Science Club, Y. M. C. A., dramatics. 
Student Council, and the band. 

He also belongs to the American 
Chemical Society, the American As- 
sociation for the Advancement of Sci- 
ence, the American Association of 
Physics Teachers, and the American 
Association of University Professors 
. . . His name is listed in Who's Who 
in American Education and in Amer- 
ican Men of Science. 

His teaching experience includes 
. . . undergraduate assistant in 
chemistry at Ashland College . . . 
Assistant in chemistry at Penn State 
. . . Associate professor of chem- 
istry at Ashland . . . Head of the 
chemistry department in Westmin- 
ister College in Salt Lake City. 

If you wish to speak with Dr. 

Scholl, drop in at the Science Hall 
... or ... if it's strictly personal 
. . . you might ring the doorbell at 
912 Maryland Avenue. 


For Discriminating Women 
JAckson 4086 5875 Forbes Street 

East May Be West - - - But 
Labrador Is Still North 

Both Dr. Doutt in cold Labrador 
with only two companions and Miss 
Chubb at the Fairs with throngs of 
people had exciting and educational 
trips this summer. 

Dr. Doutt, her husband, and Mr. 
W. E. Clyde Todd went on a Carnegie 
Museum Expedition into the interior 
of the Labrador Peninsula to make 
a survey of plants and animals. Ar- 
riving at Montreal, they took a small 
boat through the Strait of Belle Isle 
and north along the Labrador Coast. 
With three half-breeds and two 
canoes they took a trip three miles 
inland. It took them a month to go 
up the river but the current was so 
swift they spent only nine days re- 
turning. Many plants, birds, and 
mammals, which are usually farther 
north, were seen. They also had the 
thrilling experience of seeing a falls 
twice the size of Niagara. 

Getting back home was the hard- 
est part of the trip. Since wireless 
news wasn't being given out because 
of the war, it made making connec- 
tions very difficult. 

Miss Chubb saw both the San 
Francisco and the New York World's 
Fairs this summer. Of the two. Miss 
Chubb lilted the San Francisco Fair 
the better, but adds quickly that per- 
haps it was because she spent more 
time there and was able to see it at 
night. The San Francisco Fair is lo- 
cated on an island — Miss Chubb says, 
"It can truly be called Treasure 
Island." There are many more flow- 
ers, fountains, and trees at San Fran- 
cisco, considering the different sizes 
of the two fairs. However, the New 
York Fair does have more interna- 
tional buildings since San Francisco's 
includes only the countries which 
border on the Pacific. 

Strange as it may seem. Miss 
Chubb shivered at the San Francisco 
Fair and nearly died of heat in New 

Freshman Tea 

Mrs. H. L. Spencer will give a tea 
for the freshmen, in her home, tomor- 
row afternoon, October 19. 

Dr. Andrew, Dr. Butler, Mrs. Rand, 
and Miss Dysart will pour. They 
will be assisted by the freshman 
commission: Jean Archer, Dorothy 
Kessner, Amy McKay, Marjorie 
Noonan, Marion Rowell, Jane Wyre, 
Brice Black, Dorothy Brooks, Coleen 
Laurer, and Marion Kieffer. 

Doi'iii Kohls Annual 
Open House 

On Saturday evening, October 21, 
the third annual "Open House" for 
the dorm students will be held in 
Woodland Hall. The decorations com- 
mittee headed by Audrey Horton 
with her assistants, Dottie Lou Evans. 
Alice McKain, Catherine Carey, and 
Ruth Mengal, ha\-e chosen an air- 
plane hanger as their central scheme. 
The hostesses will be dressed as 
stewardesses. Decorating the room 
will be propellers, airplane pictures, 
and airplane luggage. The inevita- 
ble nickelodeon will furnish the 
music. The general chairman for the 
party is Jo-Anne Healy. The com- 
mittees are: refreshment — Pat Bren- 
nen, chairman, assisted by Mary Lou 
Shoemaker, Nancy Doer, and Betty 
Hazeltine: entertainment — Inez Wel- 
don, chairman, with Jean Burchinal, 
Jane Campbell, Alice Chattaway, and 
Louise Mclntyre helping her. 

Miss Moorehead 

If you've been wondering about 
the attractive blond girl who is new 
on the campus this year, we are about 
to put an end to your curiosity. She 
has been reported as a "transfer," a 
freshman (our sincere apologies); 
and yes. even a new new faculty 
member, which, incidentally, is the 
correct answer. 

When asked for the stoi-y of her 
life, Miss Moorehead replied that 
she hadn't lived long enough to nave 
a very lengthy biography, but we 
gleaned enough to give you some 
idea of the young lady's past. 

After graduating from PCW, Miss 
Moorehead took her master's degree 
at the University of Pittsburgh, and 
then taught for two years at Dush- 
esne College in Nebraska. She spent 
two summer sessions at the Univer- 
sity of Wisconsin. She intended to 
go on at the University of Wisconsin 
for a year of residence and then get 
her doctor's degree but came instead 
to fill the position vacated by Miss 

Miss Moorehead says that PCW 
hasn't changed since she was grad- 
uated, but she still wants to move out 
of Chapel when the last verse of the 
hymn is being sung, even though that 
is no longer the custom. She is tempt- 
ed to go out and play hockey every 
afternoon and regrets that such pleas- 
ant pastimes are not for a busy fac- 
ulty member. 

Page Six 


October 18, 1939 


Editor's Note: Jarmila Vosyka was 
an exchange student from Czeslo- 
vakia in 1936-1937. 

June 9, 1939. 
My dear Miss Marks and all my 
friends at PCW: 

First of all, thanks to you who 
wrote me since my last letter; I am 
sorry that I did not answer your 
lovely letters; and because I do not 
seem to be able to answer all of them 
at once, I thought that maybe it 
would be better to write to all of 
you again. 

I am sure that you who knew me 
did think of me during last months, 
what I was doing, and if there was 
anything happening to me. Well, I 
am all right. We all are all right 
until now. 

We do not suffer at all, that is 
physically. It is true that things are 
getting more and more expensive 
(specially meat and eggs and things 
like that). The salaries are the 
same as they were. There are many 
problems now here. First of all: 
since we have no army now, all the 
officers are now at home and one 
must find for them other positions. 
This is very difficult because we are 
now quite a small county. Then 
there are officials from the Foreign 
Office — which does not exist any 
more either. First weeks our coun- 
ty was full with German soldiers and 
because there were so much more 
people there was one time quite a 
lack of some things. The soldiers 
found it very cheap here and were 
buying especially pastry with whip- 
ped cream and were sending many 
things home to their families. They 
say that we shall not get any coffee, 
tea, cocoa and other colonial things, 
and 'we shall have the clothes made 
also of wood. The occupation of our 
territory did surprise us and did not 
surprise us. Since Munich, one could 
expect it any day. But still, we were 
rather surprised because it happened 
on a day when we did not expect it 
at all. March 14, Slovakia proclaim- 
ed itself an independent state. NatuT' 
ally, we understood how it was with 
Slovakia! And March the 15th when 
we got up, we opened as usually the 

radio — it was 6:30 o'clock A. M. — 
and instead of music and gymnasts 
as usual, we heard a voice saying: 
Citizens. This morning, the German 
Army passed over our frontiers and 
is approaching Prague from all the 
directions. Be quiet and go after 
your work as usual. Today more 
than any other time, your right 
place is in your office, factory, or 
the field. To send your children to 
school as usual — it is more important 
for them than ever. Please, keep all 
quiet! And so the voice was repeat- 
ing it slowly, seriously, round and 
round. I -went to the university. 
Everybody walked in the streets si- 
lently — there was nearly no sound in 
the streets. I saw some people with 
tears in their eyes. About 10 o'clock, 
the first tanks and automobiles with 
soldiers came to the streets of Prague. 
They seemed to be very surprised, 
that we all were so quiet and silent 
because they must have been told 
that it's not in order here. And we 
are still quiet. It is true that some 
people got arrested (put in prison), 
because they told something bad 
somewhere — in the street car or in 
a shop, full of people. I think those 
people who speak like that are dumb. 
That is no heroship. One does not 
help anything with that. In con- 
trary, it could make our situation 
worse. What does it help now? We 
are now without an army, and, well, 
we just have to have our mouths 
shut. And most of us have them. 
We must assimilate ourselves to the 
circumstances. We got now used to 
the sight of German uniforms of sol- 
diers. Prague is still beautiful. I 
love it now more than ever. 

Be happy aU of you and when you 
just do not feel sometimes quite hap- 
py, do remember that you have so 
many things which others do not 
have. I am sending to all of you 
my love. 



Look What 
We Got 

Mary Louise Henry 

Furtive glances . . . quickened 
footsteps . . . muted voices ... is 
this PCW's impression of her novices? 
We may dash into the wrong classes; 
neglect to wear our arm-bands; or 
even jibber in the library! But please 
don't be impatient with us for we 
are very earnest and sincere about 
becoming students of whom you will 
be proud. For a while, upper-class- 
men, we may mumble incoherent 
chants when our alma mater is being 
sung, but we all experience lumps in 
our throats and tremors in our knees 
just as you do! All of you have been 
so forbearing with us . . . Miss 
Marks with her jovial smile . . . 
Gladys Patton with her encouraging 
pointers at freshman assembly — and 
we are very grateful to you. 

Although we're timid, we have a 
most precocious group! Upon an- 
nouncement of organ and harp schol- 
arships, two talented little freshmen 
stepped up to carry off the laurels. 
Amy McKay and Kay Von Fossen, 
you are most deserving of praise. In 
fact, our class is very musically in- 
clined. Bette Shoup, our songbird 
from Ligonier, had the honor of sing- 
ing with Blue Barron's Band as well 
as with her high school orchestra. 
This summer at Chatauqua, Betty 
Vernon was asked to sing in the op- 
eretta presented by a summer stock 
company. Oh yes, we have singers 
but we also have suave dancers. The 
Ginger Rogers of our class, Betty 
Simpson, taught dancing for several 
years as a partner to her former 
teacher. We also wear clothes well. 
Jean Sweet has modeled for several 
years in Columbus and Wheeling de- 
partment stores, and Nina Maley has 
designed her own clothes, since she 
decided to become a dress designer. 

Yes, we may be a little slow in 
catching on, but we've got some 
grand raw material and I'm sure we'll 
turn out some A-1 products in time! 

Johnston The Florist 

MOntrose 7777 

5841 FORBES ST. 
HAzel 1012 

October 18, 1939 


Page Seven 


By Jo Anne Healey 

Well, here we are. back at the old stand, ready 
to report ou the Passing Parade. The Parade this 
year contained a bewilderino- number of new and 
pretty faces, whom we would like to know. Too 
bad there weren't a corresponding number of pretty 
arm bands. However, we'll do our best to put a 
name with every face, and love-life with every name, 
and — oh Avell — let's get on with the gossip, and may 
the best man win. 

We are devoting a special section this issue to 
fall jewelry, which we hereby itemize. 

There are a pair of wings (real ones!) on the 
shapely shoulders of I\IADALYNNE MOORE from 
a pilot called Chuck. 

The girl behind the grin these days is GLADYS 
PATTON, who is sporting a prettv trinket donated 
by JIMMY WOLFE. That leaves brother OLSON 
the last man on the 3rd floor of the PiKA house 
(Tech) who still has a pin. The boys are working 
on him, so ma^be CHATTAWAY will soon be join- 
ing her room-mate in the Victory Song. 

Among the odder jewelry is a Beta pin possessed 
(at this A^Titing) by WEAZIE CALDON. It has a 
habit of appearing and disappearing with amazing 
rapidity. Certainly a novel trinket on the Houdini 

JAXE MeCLUNG is also in the jewelry line, with 
a ring collected from somewhere at Pitt, and MOOCH 
SHOEMAKER is the antique line with a Delt heir- 

According to advance reports, FRANCES JOHN- 
SON will take LEM (W&J) WILCOX'S pin, which 
excludes California from the Union. 

PAT LOWRY tops them all. of course. 

to be in no danger of un I'amouring. We quote, 
"Love is like the measles, you can't have it bad but 
once." So go to it, gals, but we can't wish you too 
much luck, because if everyone maintained a strict 
status quo, we wouldn't have an^'thing whatsoever 
to write about at all. PUNKY COOK please note. 

The verse choir is planning to make a tour this 
year during Spring Vacation. And ALICE PRO- 
VOST is busy trying to convince the committee that 
their itinerary should include Annapolis. Maybe she 
"wants to get material for a term paper from the 
Navy files. And then again — maybe she doesn't. 
However, we are sure that Annapolis would prove as 
interestingly scenic to this verse choir as Richmond 
did to the last one. In fact, part of the Richmond 
scenic beautj^ may be seen in Woodland Hall most 
any Saturday night waiting for JEAN BURRY and 

PAT KENT is Greensburging on the double-time, 
and also dealing with the Delts. Such goings-on 
amaze us. They probably amaze Bill no less. 

JEAN BURCHINAL" is "deciding between the 
twain" and the suspense is terrific. 

By Janet Ross 

Hockey season is iicrc! Vcs, tlials what that 
knocking was, and not the radiators after all. Prac- 
tices have been held for the jiast two weeks and 
class games began yestei'day with a game between 
the .sophomores and juniors, (iames will be played 
every Tuesday and Wednesday until Xovendjer 7, 
date of the champioiishi]) game. 

This year our teams should be better tlian ever 
for we have had the benefit of expei-t coaching by 
Susan Cross, an All-Americaii. You will remember 
that Miss Cross, who was also hci-e last year, was a 
member of the United States Touring Team that 
played in the British Isles, Australia, and New 
Zealand. We hope that you were among those who 
took advantage of this valuable training. In addi- 
tion, ilLss Errett, Peg Dunseatli. Julia Wells, who 
represented PCW at the hockey conference in Cleve- 
land the week-end of September 30th, are on hand 
to share with us some of their newly acquired infor- 
mation and their experience. 

Here are your columnist's juedictions for this 
season. The Seniors should have no difficulty in se- 
curing the championship inasmuch as the.y have the 
strongest defense seen at PCW in a number of years 
and an excellent offensive. The juniors will be badly 
handicapped by the loss of Margo Dignan, high- 
scorer last year, and 'Slavy Ann Gibney, defensive 
star. If the sophomores benefit from last year's ex- 
perience and acquire more teamplay, they will pre- 
sent a hazard to all opponents. LInpredictable, as 
usual, are the freshmen, but, as they have several 
experienced stickmen. don't be too surprised if they 
upset one or more of their more highly tutored ad- 
versaries. If you do not approve of or agree with 
these predictions, just send in one of the street lights 
from the Highland Park Bridge and we shall see 
that PCW has a bigger and better Illumination 
Night next year. 

This column cannot urge each and every one of 
you too strongly to come out for at least one sport. 
If you don't know how, now's the time to learn 
while there are others in the same predicament. 
You will never find a better brand of sportsman.ship 
than is shown at PCW. 

Among the luckier Frosh : ANNE BAKER, who 
won $100 at the Stanley's recent I. Q. contest. 

Well, since a "good beginning rates a good end" 
(plug) we will close our chat with a brief quotation 
from one of WEASE McINTYRE'S dates, which 
when read from left to right gives, "Strip my gears, 
and call me shiftless."' My, my, what won't the 
boys think of next? If it's interesting enough, 
vou'll find it in the next issue of the ARROW. 

Page Eight 


October 18, 1939 


By Betty Crawford 

There is one indoor s])ort everyone loves . . . and 
that is relaxation! Psyeliolo^ists tell us that it's 
good for the libido, and our hearts say it's fun. And 
now that classes and work and research papers are 
well under way, lei "s take a gander at the entertain- 
ment world to sec what there is to take our minds 
off our work. 

Of course the first to head anyone's list this week 
is Maurice Eva]is" Hajnlet. We all know something 
about the author, Shakespeare, and probably a great 
deal about his Hamlet, but if you haven't seen 
Maurice Evans' stirring production you're missing 
a lot! This is reall.v worth seeing, especially for Mr. 
Evans' superb acting, and particularly for the com- 
pany's interpretation of the entire play. 

Ethel Barryniore comes to the Nixon in a new- 
play by Noel LangleJ^ This well known actress 
opens in Farm of Three Echoes the week beginning 
October 23. Miss Barryniore is another that should 
be on your "must see" list. 

If you like George Hall, you had better rush to 
the Stanley Theater this week. Sharing honors with 
Mr. Hall and his orchestra is Dolly Dawn and 
Henry Armetta. Supporting the stage performance 
is a light hearted movie. Winter Carnival, with Ann 
Sheridan. Makes good Saturday afternoon amuse- 
ment if you don't fancy football games. Which re- 
minds me, Pitt is scheduled to play Duquesne the 

For Saturday night dates, after the game, there 
is always The Willows (dancing there only Friday 
and Satiirday evenings). The New Penn with Ralph 
Allen's orchestra, The Pines with Nelson Maples' 
band, the Anchorage, and of course Bill Green's, the 
William Penn (Eddy Brandt's orchestra) and the 

The International Exhibition of Painting opens 
otficially on Thursday, October 19th, at Carnegie 
Museum. This is the thirty-seventh annual exhibit 
to be held here in Pittsburgh. As usual, the artists 
who are represented in the International are the 
foremost living representatives in this field. There 
are 347 paintings in the exhibit, coming from Prance, 
England, Italy, Germany and the United States. 
Everj^one should take advantage of this marvelous 
opportunity and see the International at least once ! 

If you are looking for light, amusing fun, you 
shoiild see I 'Want A Policeman, a mystery-comedy 
which opens the 24th of this month at the Pittsburgli 
Playhouse (222 Craft Ave.) Although this notice is 
a little early, this play is a good one to keep in 
mind, especially if your date should ask for a sug- 
gestion of where to go and what to do some fine 

Hollywood Cavalcade, starring Alice Faye and 
Dpn Anieehe, is here. A technicolor triumph, critics 
say you all should see it. 


By Betty Eastwood 

Even As We i 

Tliey arc still jilaying hide-and-go-seek in Europe ' 
this week. The game is begiiuiing to get a little 
wearing to the disinterested observer. Seems as if 
all the big-wigs are .standing behind trees, peeking 
out once in a while, but waiting patientlj- for the 
other fellow to yell, "Boo." 

At this rate it may go on indefinitely and a lot of 
people are beginning to wish someone would have 
courage to come out and say either, "We are," or 
"We aren't." But the high art of diplomacy doesn't 
work that way. It speaks in whispers and sneaks 
around corners after dark. In the meantime the 
poor benighted common man is inclined to skip the 
news section for the sports page. His reason hits 
home to what appears to be the heart of the whole 
situation. "I can't figure out what it's all about!" 
he says. Don't tell a soul, but we suspect that's the 
diplomats' trouble too. 
Quiet Please! 

We are back at school now for another year, and 
we all hope it will be a happy one, but there are 
forces at work in the world which do not make for 
happiness. We are not able to isolate ourselves on 
our little college hill and forget the turmoil of the 
outer world. It would not be right to do this. 

There is something, however, that we can do, and 
should. College years are years of friendship, of 
quiet talk and companionship. We must not let our 
violent feelings come between us and the realization 
of this most important side of our school life. Long 
bull sessions in dormitory rooms or the corner drug 
store will not help the aifairs of nations very much, 
and they may hurt the friends wdio are dear to us. 
There are on our campus those whose relatives and 
loved ones are in military service on both sides. 
There are many to whom the subject of war is horri- 
ble beyond belief. There is going to be too much 
fear, too much crjnng in the night, too much hatred 
as it is, without our adding to the quota. The task 
for each one of us is to form our OAvn opinion, and 
then to go quietly aboiit our business. We believe 
we are big enough to do it. 
Thinks We Never Knew 

Relax everyone ! There are bears. It seems a 
false report has been going the rounds that the koala 
bears, native of Australia, were dying off. It all be- 
gan when they did not appear at the San Francisco 
exposition. "What, no bears?" cried the visitors. 
"What, no bears?" cried the management. "What, 
no bears?" was the echo that reached the ears of the 
Australian authorities, who send a reassuring mes- 
sage. The reason the bears were not sent to the 
exposition was that it was thought the gum leaves 
which they eat did not grow in California. Now it is 
found the leaves are abundant there. Everything is 
peaceful again. We feel much better, but we want 
to know, what on earth is a koala bear? 

October 18, 1939 


Page Niiir 


by J. Anna Ayrp^ '41 

Alice was too excited really to look in the mirror: 
slie only caught a quick gliin]>so of flying hair as slic 
passed by. Her first dance . . . the one thing she had 
grown up for. What if sonietiiing happened to 
Jack? What if he got sick ov had an accident? But 
she didn't like to think about that ... it made her 
fingers tremble so she c(i\dd hai'dly fasten the buckle 
on her shoe. She laughed softly at herself. "How 
silly I am," she thought. "This is only a dance." 
But the trouble was, even the word "dance" made 
her heart jump up and doMn. 

"Mother! Mother 1"' she cried, running out into 
the hall. "Where is my slip? You know . . . the 
one with the white laee at the bottom?" This was 
her very best slip and she'd only worn it once befoie 
... at Cousin Jean's wedding. 

"For goodness sake, Alice, don't make such a 
racket." Her mother was puffing slowly up the 
stairs. "I put it away.'' 

"Away! W^here? W^hcre, Mother? I don't have 
any time! Jack '11 be here and I won't be ready. Oh 
dear . . . please hurry. Mother.'" 

"Alice! What on earth do you mean by stand- 
ing out here in the hall di'essed like that ? Good- 
ness, child!" Mrs. Carver had reached the top step 
now and stood panting as she looked down at her 

Alice rushed back to tlie bedroom and stood lie- 
hind the door with only a fluff of hair and an excited 
face showing. 

"Please, Mother . . . hurry!" 
Mrs. Carver slowly limped toward the door. She 
was a huge woman, tall and stout. Her hair was still 
jet-black, waved in neat, stiff rows. She closed the 
door and sank breathlessly into a large armchair. 

"My Heavens, Alice, but you've got this room 
turned upside down. You might just as well stop 
now and clear things up. I can't even think with all 
this mess." 

"But Mother . . . please ..." Then, seeing it 
was no use, she dashed back and forth, collecting a 
slipper here, an extra stocking there, and all sorts of 
things to be hung up. When she had finally piit 
away everything in sight, she tiirned back to her 
mother, face flushed and hair flying more than ever. 
But Mrs. Carver only jtointed silently to a shoe 
under one of the chairs. 

"Oh." Alice hastily pushed it into the closet. 
"Very Avell, your slip's in the bottom drawer," 
her mother finally said, satisfied. 

"You my^t lielp me on with my dress," Alice 
cried when she had gotten the slip. "Isn't it beauti- 
ful? Do you suppose Jack will like it? It hasn't a 
very low neck you know and lots of the girls wear 
low necks." 

"Jack '11 like it well enough. Anyhow it shouldn't 
matter to you a particle whether he likes it. I never 
paid any attention to what clothes your father liked 

l)efore wc married . . . or ariri\\ariU cillicr, for dial 
iiialtcr. " 

Alice was i-oiiiplctely iilisorlicd In tiiiding tlir 
front and back and hot loin ol' ihc dress, 'i'licii. with 
it iialfway over her iicad and the rose-coloi-<'d latTtl.i 
swishing arcjund In'i' waist, she siuhh'iily ci'icd (nit : 
"^lotlier! What time is it .'" Thr dress slijiped 
down iiuicl\ly aicnind her and hid tlic sil\ei'-1oed san- 
dals. She rusiieil 1o tiie inantel-|iiccc. Only eighl 
o'clock. She ran across to iu'r motlier. Tiot because 
there was so nnich inn-ry, but because she loved to 
hear her dress. It was so long and full and gorgeous. 
"Quick, ?ilotiH'r, fasten iih' uj)." 
]\Irs. Carver sighed, "(loodness, Alice, in my day 
the girls pur])osely kept tiieii- hea^ix waiting. Yon 
don't want to be too anxious." 

"But Mother," she laughed excitedly-. "I am 
anxious. I can't wait." 

Just then she saw her father timidly jieeking ju 
the door. 

"Oh Father! Look at my tlress." Slie flew away 
from Mrs. Carver and twirled around on one foot so 
he could get the full effect of the skirt. 

Mr. Carver slowly nodded aiul cleared his throat. 
"Very pretty, very pretty, my dear." Then he look- 
ed at his wife to see if she agreed with him. 

"Alice! come back and let me finish your hooks. 
Now von see vou've undone half of what I did. Hold 
still. '^' 

"Yes, Mother," slie whispered, too happy to 
speak aloud. 

It was then that the phone rang . . . loud and 
with an insistanee that was frightening. 

Mrs. Carver looked up. annoyed. "Oh for 
heaven's sakes . . . who can that he? Lawrence! iUt 
answer it right away." 

"Yes, my dear, I'm going." He disappeared and 
a moment after Alice heard his mild voice repeating, 
"Yes . . . yes . . . yes ..." 

She tiptoed over to the dresser and jiicked up her 
pearls. Suppose something iiad haiipeiied to Jack? 
What would she do? Ilei- fingers were as cold as 
the necklace when she fastened it on. 

"That looks very nice, Alice,"' came her mother's 
voice, harsh-sounding after the silence. Alice tried 
to smile but her lips were dry and felt as if they 
were only stretching. 

Her father appeared in the dof)rway. He looked 
a little worried and glanced pleadingly toward Mrs. 
Carver. He cleared his throat. 

"Cary . . . ah . . . could you step out here a 
minute . . .'' 

"Father!" Alice was standing jjerfectly still in 
the middle of the floor, her hands clasped in front of 
her "Was it Jack?'" 

"Xo, my dear.'" He still would not look at her. 
"Well, Lawrence, for goodness sakes tell me 

Page Ten 


October 18, 1939 

wliat it is. Diiirt staml tlierc like a seareurow . . . 
tell us." 

Again he cleared liis throat. "Well, Cary, it isn't 
so nuich, but I didn't want to make the ehild here 
unhappy at her first danee. Uncle James has 
died ..." 

"Died! James.' . . . ^ve\l." 

"Yes . . , ])assed away last night. It was his 
heart I think." 

"And no heirs. We're his closest relatives. Poor 
Jim. Yes, poor Jim." 

Alice, too relieved to speak, only hurried back to 
the dresser and snapped on her bracelet. Then she 
looked in the mirror. Why did her hair go out so 
wild? She picked up the comb and was lost watch- 
ing the light flow down after it. 

Her father she saw standing behind her, looking 
uncomfortable. He was a very little man, almost 
f<)ioi'ter than she was. 

"Now, Alice, you won't let it upset .vou any •will 
you? Your Uncle was an old man and he died very 
peacefully. You just have a nice time and forget it, 
won 't you V ' He laid a hand timidly on her shoulder. 

"LawTenee!'' Her mother's voice struck them 
both like cold water and lie drew his hand quickl.v 
away. They saw her rise painfully and indignantly 
from the chair. "What are you talking about? That 
child isn't going to any dance now. We aren't that 
much heathens! Mercy upon us, Lawrence . . . 
where 's your church training?'' 

With a soundless rush everything dropped away 
from Alice and left nothing but empty space. She 
was onlj' standing in a hot bedroom with a dress on. 
Tt hung limp and lifeless from her shoulders. Her 
hair didn't reflect the light anymore because there 
wasn't any light . . . only the two lamps standing 
dull and yellow across the room. 

"But, ]\Iother ..." She wondered if she had 
spoken aloud because no one seemed to have heard 

Her father shifted onto another foot and looked 
disturbed. "Well now, Cary. it seems to me ..." 

Mrs. Carver only glared at him and turned to 
leave the room. "I'm going down to tell that Jack 
Morrison he's to go by himself this time." She 
glanced at her daughter. "Now take off the dress 
right away, Alice. There's no sense mussing it up." 
And then she limped painfully out. 

Alice turned hopelessly to her father. But he 
was already following his wife. At the doorway he 
stopped in hesitation and saw Alice leaning against 
the dresser. For a moment he looked as if he would 
speak, but in the end he only turned helplessly away 
and shuffled out. 



By Jean Burchinal, '42 


The fisherwoman. 

Has cast her gray net and caught 

All the silver 


By Marden Armstrong, '42 

It was one of those sturdy, red-brick farmhouses, 
built by prosperous settlers, and handed down from 
father to son. Rebekkah Winthrop had come to it 
as a bride a century ago, and had borne her six chil- 
dren there, and had died within its protective red 
arms. And her eldest. Eli, had brought Sarah there, 
and Sarah had borne her children in the room where 
her husband had been born. Eli is dead now. But 
Sarah .still lives in the old, red house with her eldest 
and his sons, who wearily work the now unproduc- 
tive fields. Rebekkah would weep if she could see 
it now. For with the decay of souls within the old 
house, has come an accompanying decay without. A 
subtle disintegration has taken place . . . something 
not perceived, but sensed. 

Before the house stand two great Norway pines, 
like gaunt sentinels. A rutted mud road lags dis- 
interestedly up to the wrecked hulk of a barn, and 
from there wanders vaguely up the hill behind the 
house, and loses itself in rough pasture land above. 
In the field beside the house a lonely horse is listless- 
ly cropping dusty grass. Over all . . . the suffocating 
blanket of heat which precedes a midsummer storm. 

Within the house there is silence, except for the 
complaining creak of a rocking chair, and the rasp- 
ing, tinny tick of the clock. In the scarred chair sits 
Sarah, as shriveled and brown as a raisin. She rocks 
incessantly, and stares before her with faded eyes. 
The linoleum on the floor underneath the chair has 
been worn by constant rocking until there are only 
two parallel black lines where the colored squares 
have been. An ugly, green fly buzzes noisily about 
the room. In the hot stillness his drone is magnified 
until the stained plaster Avails seem to echo and re- 
echo the sound. The smell of freshly ironed clothes 
still lingers in the room. 

Sarah's attempts at housework are feeble. Yet 
someone must cook and iron for the "men-folks" 
since her son 's wife is dead. Her once strong fingers 
have become fumbling brown sticks, and her alert 
eyes are blurred with dreaming. There are tiny piles 
of dust in the corners of the room, and lonely crumbs 
lie scattered on the table. At the fly-specked win- 
dow, not-too-carefulh^ mended curtains hang life- 
lessly, and a splotched red geranium sags in its pot 
on the sill. But Sarah does not seem to notice the 
fly, nor the heat, nor the not-too-carefullj' mended 
curtains. Her mind has escaped the confines of the 
stained plaster walls. 

On the oilcloth-covered table beside her chair is 
a chipped jelly glass in which her "store teeth" have 
been put. They seem misplaced in that jelly glass, 
and grin foolishly, as if thej^ were embarrassed at 
being there. At intervals, Sarah reaches out bony 
fingers and groupes awkwardly for the glass. Re- 
assured that it is there, she drops her arms into her 

October 18, 1939 


Page Eleven 

gingham-covered lap. Her chair moves back ami 
forth in the Avorn, black lines. 

With a sudden movement, incredibly .swift for 
one so old, Sarah throws her arms out, as if reaching 
for something. Her hand gropes wildly for a mo- 
ment. She begins to whimper. Water runs from 
the corners of her shrunken mouth. The yellow 
butterflies have gone. She caiuiot catch them, for 
they &y so swiftly. She mutters to herself. Always 
she runs in the sunny meadow, chasing the butter- 
flics, but can never catch them. They are so lovely. 
She is lovely, too, like the butterflies. She silently 
slips back into golden youth. 

She is running now . . . swiftly, to elude Eli who 
playfully chases her doM-n the long meadow towards 
the wood. They have left the picnic crowd far be- 
hind. Panting, breathless, they reach the cool, dim 
wood. Eli has caught her ; he is holding her close. 

"I love you, Sarah," he whispers. "I love you." 

Then the yellow butterflies flit past again. 

"Gran 'ma," her grandson's shrill voice comes 
through the window. "Here's Miz Howells to see 

Sarah slowly looks up. iliz Howells smiles, and 
begins to speak. Sarah's withered face splits in a 
foolish, toothless grin. 

"The butterflies are so prettj', " she mumbles. 


By J. Anna Ayres, '41 

How can I stand beside his bed 

Dry-eyed ? 

How can I stand and see the flat, smooth stretch of 

Unbroken by the form that molded them for years? 
The sheets that only yesterday were warm where he 

had touched them? 
But still I stand dry-eyed. 
I have not wept. 
Strong . . . strong remembering 
And having him. 

Why do they come and talk as if he'd gone? 
They frighten me. 

If he had only died . . . 

Just died. 

And I alone to love him 

And mourn for him and keep him 

"With none of this . . . 

The funeral and the flowers, the words about him. 

At first death could have seemed as beautiful as life. 

But soon the people's sympathy, the flowers, will 

make me weep. 
And then . . . 

Tomorrow I will stand beside this bed 
Alone, with empty heart, half dull with tears. 
And blind to all things but that stretch of sheets 
Without him. 

Thoujjlits at Morning 

By Rachel Kirk, '40 

This luoniiiif:, 1 awoke early to Miiisliiiu' and 
liinl song and last night's rain drops sparkling in 
the green leaves outside my window. I lay there 
watching the newly-washed clouds sailing .slowly 
across the blue of the sky, and as 1 ^\;^tl■ll('d, I re- 
membered a little girl. 

She was a cliild who was full of fancies, who 
looked for fairies' rings in the grass and never up- 
rooted a toadstool for fear of disturbing a sleeping 
brownie. To her. all things had being — the letters 
in her ABC book and the numbers she had to learn 
to add and multiply; her little red wagon; the pink 
and white bleed inghearts in her grandmother's gar- 
den. On summer evenings, she used to sit on the 
porch steps, grownup voices a murmur behind her, 
and look at the blue and lavendar heavens. Then, 
as now, the clouds sailed .•(lowly across the sky, but 
to the little girl the.y were not just clouds. They 
were all the world. 

If she sat very quietly, she could feel the silent 
moving of the universe. It was mysterious and 
wonderful and awesome, and j^et she was not afraid. 
The earth was there where she could almost touch it. 
The farthest horizon was just at the edge of town, 
and from where she sat on the front steps, she 
could see the widest limits of the world. As long as 
there was light, she could watch its majestic and 
marvelous turning, and she knew that the blue and 
gold and pink orb had her for its center. 

It was a comforting feeling that the child had, 
and a small and safe world. Now the little girl has 
groA\Ti-up. She has learned that when she watches 
the clouds move across the sky, she is not seeing the 
globe revolve on its axis. She knows that clouds 
are not the whole world, but that they are only 
masses of electrically charged dust particles which 
have attracted to them oppositely-charged drops of 
water. She realizes that only for hei-self is she the 
center of the universe. And the world can no longer 
be encompassed within one glance. It is huge, hos- 
tile, incomprehensible. 

But I am not sure that I would want Time to 
backward, turn backward and again make me a 
child. I am not certain that the serene security in 
which nearly every child moves is enviable. There 
is no challenge in a sort of unaware contentment. 

The child, in her small, round, sheltered world 
knew only her picture books, her dolls and wagon, 
the flowers in her grandmother's garden. She saw 
the clouds moving and believed she watched the 
earth turning. She was unafraid, but she was also 
unknowing. Her adult self is insecure, fearful, 
awed before the wideness and the turmoil of the 
world, but she is not content. And, who knows? 
Perhaps some day she might really feel the universe 
move and see the world turn. 

Page Twelve 


October 18, 1939 


by ^Lsan WoolridgG '41 

Anna grunted as she watched 
Matt, her husband steer the car 
out of the long drive onto the dirt 
road which led to the highway. 

"Ja," she said to herself. "He iss 
for a few days gone. Now, can I 
my preserving get done.'' 

The countryside as seen from the 
front of the barn which was her 
home, was a green expanse of fields 
and trees dotted here and there by 
groves of early yellowing locusts. 
Only on the far hillside was it re- 
lieved by a gray house surrounded 
by poplar trees. Often she wished 
for a house such as that one must 
be; but today her glance only swept 
past it and rested proudly on her 
small square of lawn. Each stock 
of grass, as if combed daily, stood 
upright. Fascinated, she watched a 
ladybug crawl up one side of a 
blade, over the top and down the 

In her mind slie saw the rest of 
the property. On the north stood 
the foundation of a house that Hans 
had dug. If only her husband would 
pay Hans, then he could finish the 
house and it would be nicer than 
the gray one on the hillside. When 
her husband was away she and 
Hans had planned it together. His 
parents had come from a small town 
in Germany near her own. 

At the west of the old barn, where 
Hans had put a window that she 
might see the sunset, were an aban- 
doned mine and a few buildings: 
sorhe for the goats, others for the 
dogs her husband stole and resold. 
Back there now with her new pups, 
was a Great Dane which had come 
apparently lost, to the door about 
a month ago. Not long after, she 
had eleven pups and Matt had let 
her keep only the six that were 
strongest. For drowning her pups 
the dog hated him, but she trusted 
Anna who fed her. 

' To the south was Anna's vegetable 
garden where she grew most of her 
food. Practically the only thing 
she bought besides her staple needs 
was oranges for the baby which the 
county nurse said he must have. 
Around the garden and barn was a 
strong fence, high enough to keep 
out the goats and around it was 
another fence. The second one was 
electrically wired and was about 30 
feet from the first on three sides 
and on the fourth side extended to 
include the old mine, the sheds and 

a great deal of pasture land. Into 
this enclosure Matt, when he went 
away, turned loose his fierce old 
billy goat. The fence kept the goat 
from getting out as he had learned 
to respect it, and the goat prevented 
people from entering for his head 
was four feet from the ground and 
his horns added almost another foot 
to his height. He had a long brown 
beard and his close-set eyes glared 
at anyone who dared come near. 
Matt was the only one he would 
not butt and when Anna wanted to 
let the nurse into the barn for her 
bi-weekly visit or when she needed 
to attend to the goats or dogs, she 
had to entice the huge animal with 
a precious carrot, beet top or cab- 
bage leaf and quickly chain him to 
a large fence post. 

Matt had an electric fence and he 
had lights in the sheds, but he made 
his wife use kerosene lamps and he 
lived in a barn. 

A lusty wail from inside sent 
Anna hurrying to the clothes basket 
by the oil stove. 

"Ach, he iss not vet!" Tilting her 
head to look at the clock which lay 
on one side for want of a leg. she 
exclaimed, "For fife minutes he 
vants his orange juice." She clucked 
softly under her breath, "Vat vould 
Nurse say?" 

Deftly she cut an orange in half 
and after squeezing out the juice 
she strained it through a clean 
square of an old sugar sack into 
the baby's bottle. The nurse had 
given her a large mayonnaise j^ 
and in it she kept sterile nipples. 
Now she took one out and, careful 
not to touch the tip, she held one 
edge of it against the bottle with 
her thumb and taking the other 
edge she pulled it over the top. Test- 
ing a drop on the back of her hand 
and finding it right she took the 
baby again and gave him the nipple 
which he eagerly sucked. 

The rest of that day she spent 
putting up beans and tom.atoes in 
the jars her mother had given her 
and which she had collected in the 
three years she had been married. 
As she set the jars in the store- 
room which was on the one side of 
the barn, she noted with satisfac- 
tion the crocks of sauerkraut, the 
flour sacks filled with potatoes and 
hanging in one corner, the salted 
and smoked goat-meat. Setting the 
jars down she counted, "ein . . . 

zwei . . . drei ..." seventy-four 
jars of tomatoes and fifty-seven of 
beans. At the end of last fall she 
did not have more than she had now 
and the first frost was still at least 
another month away. There were, 
yet. many beans and tomatoes in 
the garden and cabbages and beets 

Matt had growled because there 
would be another mouth to feed; but 
she had worked harder in the gar- 
den this year — there had only been 
the week when the baby came that 
she had not worked there. For some 
reason the nurse had been angry 
when she found Anna hoeing the 
garden so soon; but the winter would 
find her prepared. 

Hurriedly she turned away from 
her store of wealth to give the ba- 
by his evening meal. As he nursed 
she thought, as she often did. what 
she would name him. 

Here he was more than four 
months old and she only spoke of 
him as Baby when Matt was there. 
Matt called him "the Brat.' She 
did not know just what that meant 
but she did not like the way he said 
it. Sometimes when alone with Ba- 
by she would say, "little Hans" and 
look closely to see how it became 
him. She thought of big Hans. He 
used to play with the child but now 
he was on his way south where he 
always went for the fall and win- 
ter, and would be back in the spring. 

The next day, after the nurse left, 
Anna went down to the old mine 
where she had tied the Great Dane 
with her pups. Her husband had 
ordered her whenever anyone came, 
even the nurse, to tie the dog in the 
mine where it could not be heard. 
When she reached the mine the 
Great Dane was so glad to see her 
that Anna decided to bring the dog 
and her pups to the old barn for 
company. She put one of the pups 
in a bushel basket to carry and the 
other one the dog picked up in her 
mouth. She followed Anna walk- 
ing smoothly and being careful to 
leave a wide space between herself 
and the goat which made fierce 
sounds in his throat. The dog was 
black except for her chest which 
was white as were her paws, her 
nose and the tip of her tail. On the 
top of her head between the eai's 
were six white hairs. The pup she 
carried was just like her even to 
the white tip of its tail and the 

October 18, 1939 


Page Thirteen 

six hairs on its head. At the door 
the huge dog set her pup down and 
politely sat up on her haunches un- 
til asked to come in. Once inside 
she seemed to know what was ex- 
pected of her, for she lay in one 
corner of the room and kept all of 
the pups near except the one which 
was like her. The small dog wob- 
bled over to the stove and stayed 
between it and the wall until its 
mother noticed it. Then the Dane 
rose, shook off the other pups and 
tried to grasp the elusive one in 
her mouth. Not being able to do 
this as the pup was too far behind 
the stove, she reached with her paw, 
cuffed it and pulled it toward her. 
Back with the other pups the moth- 
er cleaned it with her tongue and 
let it go, whereupon it immediately 
returned to the stove. 

On the other side of the room 
Anna's baby, lying naked on a blan- 
ket, was taking his afternoon sun 
bath. He would wriggle and coo 
each time the dog got up and Anna 
spent her time between cleaning 
vegetables and moving the baby so 
that his eyes would not be in the 
sunlight as the nurse had told lier 
to be sure to do. 

Later, when Anna went to dig 
some fresh carrots for her dinner, 
she saw a large, shiny car stop at 
the driveway and a man get out 
and start toward the house. Quickly 
she returned and, piling the pups in 
a basket, she took the Great Dane 
by her collar and hurried to one 
of the buildings in the back. The 
dog was reluctant to come but An- 
na pulled her along and tied her 
with a rope in the shed. Back at 
the barn she saw that the man was 
already by the door. She hurried 
inside the building and he followed. 

"Pardon me," he "boomed, his 
voice big in the sparsely furnished 
room, "Have you seen my dog? A 
Great Dane. She was going to have 
pups. Been lost about a month and 
I've traced her to around here." 

Anna looked puzzled and pretend- 
ed she could not understand. The 
man explained again more slowly 
and louder. 

"She's black with white under- 
neath and on her feet and tail and 
. . . " At this moment the little 
black and white puppy-dog which 
was behind the stove, wobbled out 
and began to whimper for his moth- 

The man stooped to pick up the 
dog but Anna was quicker. She 
grabbed it and put it behind her and 
said, "Nein!" 

"I'll call the sheriff," he threat- 
ened and started for the door. 

Anna remained stolidly where she 

"Give me that dog." 


He went out the door and Anna 
iollowed to see that he did not in- 
\estigate further. Going back 
through both gates he gave a shrill 
whistle; as he went down the driva 
to the car and an answering howl 
came from the shed where the Dane 
was tied. 

Anna returned to the house and 
wondered what to do. "Ach, vat will 
Matt say?" She shrugged her shoul- 
ders. Vat can I do?" 

Not bothering to take the pup to 
its mother she went back to the gar- 
den, pulled up some carrots and un- 
tied the large goat which had been 
chained to the fence since morning. 
As she prepared dinner she heard 
the brake of a car being pulled on 
and Matt came running into the 

He snarled, "Where's the dog?" 
And without waiting for a reply, 
said, "Was anybody here?" 

She answered fearfully, 'Big man. 
Said dog vas hiss. He saw her pup." 

For the first time Matt noticed 
the little dog and snapped, "Why the 
hell did you have the whelps up 

He advanced menacingly and then 
changed his mind. He grabbed the 
pup and said, "I'll tend to you later," 
and went out the door muttering. 
"That must have been the guy I 
heard in town telling the sheriff 
about seeing his pup. Lucky I got 
here plenty fast. Damn that wo- 

The dog was whining and whim- 
pering at being handled so roughly. 
As Matt went into the oat enclosure 
he saw a large car turning up his 
driveway. Cursing, he dropped the 
pup and kicked it behind Some 
bushes. The dog cried and yelped 
piercingly and its mother came rac- 
ing up from the shed with the brok- 
en rope traUing behind her and 
jumped at the man. He put up his 
arm to ward her off but the force 
of her leap carried him to the 
ground and she went for his throat. 

The two men sprang out of the 
car, the sheriff drawing his gun and 
the owner of the dog whistling for 
the Great Dane: but she was oet- 
ting her revenge and would not 
come. As they came through the 
gateway the goat rushed at them 
and the sheriff shot it. Running to 
.-^ave Matt who was still feebly strug- 

gling with the dog, the sheriff was 
able to get a good aim at it without 
danger of hitting the man and he 
fired. The Great Dane leaped into 
the air and then fell on top of the 
man, dead. 

"I can take him to the hospital 
in my car,'' cried the owner of the 

The sheriff shook his head. "He 
don't need a hospital," he said as 
he I'utilely tried to stanch the blood 
that spurted from Matt's neck. "He 
just got what he deserved, I reckon. 
He was a surly brute of a man. 
Too bad about the dog, but she 
would have had to be killed any- 
how. You won't be held respon- 
sible, though." 

"What about the woman?" 

At this moment Anna appeared 
in the doorway. The men stood up 
and removed their hats as she came 
slowly over to them. She glanced 
at her husband over whose face the 
sheriff had placed a handkerchief, 
shrugged her shoulders and started 
back towards the barn. 

The sheriff and the man walked 
after her and the sheriff said, "I'm 
sorry. Ma'am,'' and the man asked, 
"Isn't there something I can do?" 

Anna turned to them, shook her 
head. "Nein," she said. "Nein, I 
haf beans and tomatoes and meat 
and cabbage for der vinter. Der 
big goat hide viU make a nice rug, 
and," her eyes lit up. "Hans, Hans 
vill be back in der spring." 



Fresh Candies, Soda and Ice Cream 


Fifth and Wilkins Avenues 
Pittsburgh, Pa. 

Telephone MAyflower 0145 



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smRFCMteirrsHOP 'J3^i';^s%,fffk 

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"'•me engraved free on $2.50 up 



Page Fourteen 


IT HURT My tyu 

The sun was shining brightly — al- 
most too brightly — as I walked across 
the field to my cabin that day. Camp 
life, was going on at its usual lively 
pace with girls in the cabins, out of 
the cabins, behind the cabins, and 
even one small girl under a cabin. 
Perhaps she was homesick or may- 
be she was only looking for a ball 
that had rolled beyond her reach. A 
mushball game was in progress with 
many cheers and strike outs, but I 
was too excited to give it much 
thought for in my hands was the lat- 
est mail from home. 

A letter and the newspaper! The 
paper was tucked forgotten under 
my arm as I eagerly read my broth- 
er's letter. Just to think, he had 
talked to a boy in Brazil the other 
nigiit on his radio, and "The Recep- 
tion was very good. We had a fine 
Q. S. O. and I wish you could have 
been here to, listen." Well, I wished 
so too, for it's not every day one can 
get Brazil. Maybe he would have 
let, me talk, as he had that night 
when he had contacted a boy in 
Deliver. That was a thrill. 

"I hiope you didn't run onto any 
skpnks. this year. You know nice 
girls don't run around olaying with 
woodspussies." Teh, tch, birothers 
just can't forget embarrassing inci- 
dents, and they can't help teasing 
about them either. 

"This letter has to be short for 
I have a bad case of glass arm from 
too much pen slinging. You and 
mother make life difficult for me. 
both being away at the same time." 
Old silly! 

Still smiling, I absently opened 
the newsnaper and scanned the head 
lines. The letters jumped but I 
took a firm grip on the paper and 
tried to put them back together again. 
I looked up. and the world had stop- 
ped, but I kept on going. I walked 
on, and it hurt to pick up one foot 
and put it down in front of the other. 
The cheers of the mushball game 
ground in mv ears, but I realized 
that the ringing in my head hurt 
more. I walked on. 

Past a cabin whose phonograph 
blared out "I see your face before 
me." The face that I saw before 
me made me close my eyes in pain 
but I forced them open and walked 
on. On past two girls doing the 
"cake walk" on the grass to the 
music next door. Past two little girls 
■whose entwined arms, hushed voices. 

and earnest faces made me think 
of secrets. On by the tot who was 
crawling out from under the cabin 
with a grimy but triumphant face, 
the ball clutched tightly in her hand. 
Past three girls dressed in their 
starched camp uniforms and looking 
\'ei-y much on parade. Only by these 
and all the others I walked, and 
though I looked at them, I saw other 
scenes, other times, another face. 

For I was seeing instead the proud 
grin of my brother as he led me 
through the latest dance step he had 
taught me; I saw him as a younger 
boy who came up with a twinkle in 
his eye and whispered, "Say, can you 
keep a secret?" I saw a child who 
crawled, dirty but happy, from under 
the hot water heater with the preci- 
ous lost dime clutched in his fist, 
while little sister clapped her hands. 
No, I was not seeing the small girl 
emerge from under the cabin, nor yet 
the girls walking toward me all dress- 
ed up. I saw another picture this 

I was seeing uniforms. Not the 
out-grown Boy Scout uniform, long 
ago cut up for rags to clean the car, 
but natty grown up uniforms. For 
the black letters meant something 
to me at last. It was all too clear, too 
simple. War was declared. 

The sun was shining brightly as I 
walked across the field to my cabin — 
almost too bright. It hurt my eyes. 


Below is a list of the Transfer Students 
and their former colleges: 

Allison Meyer, Ohio State University: 
Dorothy M. Andrews, College of New Ro- 
r-helle: Jean Arthur. Converse College: Emily 
Barschdorf, Nurses* Training School; Jean 
Burchinal. Washington Seminary: Aileen 
Chapman, Carnegie Tech Art School: 
Beatrice Dobson, University of Michigan: 
Margaret Hibbs. Wilson College: Mary Kerr. 
Wellesley College: Mary Ann Mackey, West 
Virginia Wesleyan: Mariana Mahaney. Car- 
negie Tech Art School: Alice McKain, Wil- 
liam and Mary College: Elinor Offill, Univer- 
sity of Southern California and Bryn Mawr: 
Mildred Rudinsky. Washington Seminary; 
Anna Elizabeth Saylor. Wooster College; 
Eleanor Tiel. Ohio Wesleyan University: 
and Helen Waugh, West Virginia Wesleyan. 

October 18. 1939 

by MarfcriG Wood '42 

By Marden Armstrong, ''42 

Ou this hill 

Wild asters 


Oil the wind. 

And green-biown 



To the sky. 

A hawk 


Over the vellow 



On the next hill 

Two horses 

Are eating 

Scarlet apples 


A faint, blue 


Is tangling itself 

In the 











601 Penn Avenue 

MOntrose 2144 

.October 18, 1939 



Galbraith followed old Elspeth up 
the long stairs. As they walked he 
noticed how her fat haunches swayed 
and the way the sweat shone on her 
black neck. When they reached the 
top she was breathing asthmatically. 
She stopped in front of his mother's 
room, her finger on her lips. 

"Y'all wait here, Mr. Cal, and I'll 
see if she's awake." 

Galbraith watched her squeeze her 
fat body through the door. She clos- 
ed it behind her with a little click, 
and he was facing the shining panels. 
He remembered how as a little boy 
he had stood so many times before 
that door, trying to see his image in 
the polished walnut. His mouth 
softened, and he peered at the door, 
straining his eyes as he searched the 
shining wood for some faint shadow 
of himself. He jumped a little when 
the door opened and Elspeth came 

"You can go in now," she said, and 
the whites of her eyes were flecked 
with red, like those of his setter 
bitch. He went past her into the 
dim room and his nostrils flared as 
they got the familiar scent of ashes 
of roses from the rose-jar on the 
table. Quite suddenly he knew that 
what had begun when he searched 
for his reflection in the walnut door 
was not over. The years of his life 
since he had left this house — this 
room, fell away from him, and he 
walked carefully so as not to disturb 
the spell that the past — the walnut 
paneling, and the rose-jar had woven 
for him. 

The woman on the bed must have 
known. Her voice, for all its quiet- 
ness, was quick and sure. 

"Don't fidget, Cal, sit down." 

He neared the bed, and it seemed 
to him that he was not as tall as he 
had been. 

"Do take your hands out of your 
pockets." The thin voice seemed to 
hover on the air, quite disconnected 
from the still figure on the bed. Gal- 
braith sat down in the low plush- 
backed rocker by the bed and folded 
his legs under him. With an effort 
he brought his eyes to his mother's 
face. For a long while he searched 
for some familiar landmark in the 
ravage of her countenance. His eyes 
saw the sunken curve of her cheeks, 
and the way her hair was white. 
Finally he met her eyes, and they 
were enormous, deeply sunken. She 
watched him calmly. It seemed to 
him that she must be too tired, now, 
for anything but calmness. 

"It's been a long time," she said 
at last, "and you're not the same as 
you were — or as you would have 
been, if you hadn't gone." Her hands 
were picking at the cover, rolling the 
lint into small heaps. He could see 
the pulse throbbing at the veins in 
her wrist. 

"I've kept thinking," she was going 
on, " — I've kept thinking you'd come 
before this." 

"I meant to — ," it was his own 
voice, and yet it was not his own. It 
belonged to the little boy who was 
sitting here, so long ago. 

"It doesn't matter," his mother 
said, and now her voice was a whis- 
per. "You've come now — and you 
can go away again — knowing that 
you weren't too late." His eyes were 
caught and held by hers. "If you 
hadn't come, you see," he had to. lean 
forward now, to hear her — 'If you 
hadn't come — back here — you never 
could have come back — to anything." 

There was a silence while she gath- 
ered her breath. No one," she said, 
can go forward always. Not even 

She closed her eyes. You'd best 
go now." she said, "I think I'll go to 
sleep. Tell Elspeth to come to me." 

I'll be back," he whispered softly. 

She lifted heavy lids from her dark 
eyes. No, she said. You came back 
^before it was too late. Now go away 
again, before — " 

"Before it's too late?" His voice 
was loud in the dim room. She did 
not answer, and her eyes were clos- 
ed again. For a minute he watched 
her, seeing the slow beat at her tem- 
ple. Then he raised his eyes. Across 
the bed, the silver of the high-boy 
mirror shone hazily in the gloom. At 
first he could see nothing else, then 
slowly a face emerged from the dim- 
ness. He studied it detachedly, not- 
ing the thinness of it, and the way 
the cheek-line ran in a triangle from 
a broad fore-head to the point of a 
long chin. He saw the hardness of 
a wide mouth, and the way the red 
hair lay close against the scalp. A 
long nose gave an over-balanced 
look, like the face of a fox. 

With a shock, he realized that it 
was his own face. He had seen it 
so many places, in so many mirrors, 
but not here. This face had not 
been here before. That was why, he 
supposed, he hadn't recognized it at 

His legs suddenly were cramped 
and he knew that the chair was too 
low. The scent of the roses was 

Page Fifteen 

. . by Jo Ann€ Hcalcy '41 

heavy now, and seemed to hurl his 
chest. He got up quickly, and walk- 
ed to the door, not looking back. He 
hesitated a minute before he turned 
the knob. He could hear the heavy 
wheezing of Elspeth's breath, on the 
other side, and when he opened the 
door, she was standing there. She 
went past him into the room with- 
out speaking, and closed the door be- 
hind her. 

Pressed for the need for air, he 
hurried down the narrow stairs, and 
collecting his hat and cane in the 
hall, he let himself out the front 
door. The strong sunlight drove the 
midst from his brain, and suddenly 
his mind was clear again. As he 
walked the flagstone path to the gate, 
he knew that his mother was wrong. 
He would go forward, always. Be- 
cause, for her, he had gone back in 
time, but for himself, it had been 
too late. His hand lingered on the 
gate lock, and he traced with his 
finger the three initials car\'ed there. 
Once, he remembered, the gashes had 
been deep, and rough to the touch, 
but now they were smooth, and shal- 
low. He opened the gate, and as it 
shut behind him, he wondered if per- 
haps it hadn't been too late, always. 


of a 



Phone MOntrose 5556 

527 ?hady Avenue at Kentucky 
Pittsburgh, Pa. 

Registered Pharmacist 
I fill your Prescription 

Page Sixteen 


October 18, 1939 


Below is a list of freshmen and their 
preparatory schools : 

Margaret Anderson. Edgewood High 
School; Jean Archer, E von worth High 
School; Janet Baer. Winchester-Thurston; 
Ann Baker, Belle Vernon High School; Mar- 
garet Ballard, Mt. Lebanon: Eleanor Bein- 
hauer. South Hills: Mary Ann Bell. Winches- 
ter-Thurston, Margaret Benz. Greensburg 
High School; Brice Black. Western High 
School. Baltimore, Md.; Patricia Blue. Pea- 
body; Mary Boileau. Peabody: Dorothy 
Brooks, Sewickley; Betty Brown, Westing- 
house; Helen Brown. Steelton High School: 
Barbara Browne. Avenworth High School ; 
Jane Brooks, Wells High School. Steuben- 
ville, Ohio; Catharine Carey, Sewickley High 
School; Edith Cole. Peabody; Florence 
Croyle, Schenley: and Lucille Cummins, East 
Washington High School, Washington. Pa. 

Jean DeWoody, Dormont; Peggy Dietz, 
Dormont; Virginia Ditges, Winchester-Thurs- 
ton; Doris Dodds, Ellis School; Nancy Doerr, 
Avenworth; Mary Evelyn Ducey, Sewickley; 
Jane Evans, Wilkinsburg; Rosemarie Fillp- 
pelli, Schenley; Mary Jane Fisher, Avalon; 
Jane Fitzpatrick, Allderdice; Eleanor Gar- 
rett. Allderdice; Virginia Gillespie, Peabody; 
Ruth Gilson, Peabody; Janice Goldblum, 
Schenley; Mary Grey, Wilkinsburg; Louise 
Haldeman, Wilkinsburg; Barbara Heinz, All- 
derdice; Virginia Hendryx. Allderdice; Mary 
Louise Henry, Greensburg; Marjory Heth, 
Radnor High School, Wayne. Pa.; Ella Hil- 
bish, Ursuline Academy; and Dorothy Home. 

Claire Marks Horwitz, Peabody; Jane 
Humphreys, Langley; June Hunker, Mun- 
hall; Doris Hutchison, McKeesport; Betty 
Vance Hyde, Schenley; Miles Janouch, Pea- 
body; Margaret Johnson, New Kensington; 
Barbara Johnson, Monson High School. Mon- 
son, Mass.; Dorothy Kaessner, Mt. Lebanon; 
Elinor Keffer. Connellsville High School; 
Marion Kieffer, Peabody; Evelyn Klein, All- 
derdice; Josephine Kott, Stowe; Cynthia 
Kuhn, Winchester-Thurston; Marian Xjambie, 
Allderdice; Coleen Lauer. Marietta High 
School. Marietta, Ohio; Pattie Logue, High- 
land Hall. HoUidaysburg; Althea Lowe. Ma- 
sontown High School; Patricia Lowry, Miss 
Harris' Florida School. Florida; Margaret 
Malanos, East Pittsburgh; Nina Maley, Park- 
ersburg Central High School. Parkersburg, 
W. Va.; Elizabeth Maroney. South Hills; 
Dorothy Marshall, Peabody; Jane McCall, 
Peabody; and Janet McCormick, Avonworth. 

Mary Jane McCormick, Dormont; Jean Mc- 
culloch, Westinghouse; Amy McKay. Zelien- 
ople High School; Ruth Meyers, Allderdice; 
Dorothy Minnneci, Ursuline Academy; Mada- 
lynne Moore, Parkersburg High School, 
Parkersburg. W. Va. ; Marjorie Noonan, 
Schenley; Margaret Orr, Chatam Hall, Vir- 
ginia; June Price, Wilkinsburg; Alice Reed, 
Ellis School; Norma Jane Reno, Crafton; 
Louise Rider, Mt. Lebanon; Janet Ross, 
Bellevue; Marion Rowell, Munhall; Elizabeth 
Rudman, Edgewood; Nancy Schell, Somerset 
High School; Mary Schweppe, Butler High 
School; Constance Shane. Perry; Bette 
Shoup, Ligonier High School; Gloria Silver- 
stein, Allderdice; Betty Simpson, Cadiz High 
School; Anna Skalyo, McKeesport; Virginia 
Sumner. Wilkinsburg Jean Sweet. Triadel- 
phia High School, Wheeling, W. Va.; Marian 
Teichmann, East Washington High School, 
Washington, Pa.; and Phylis Tross, Board- 
man, Youngstown, Ohio. 

Elizabeth Vernon, Beaver High School; 
Claranne Von Fossen. Beardstown High 
School, Beardstown. 111.; Louise Wallace, 
Peabody; Elizabeth Ward, FoxhoUow School. 
Lenox, Mass.; Catherine Watsch. Beall High 
School, Frostburg, Md.; Elizabeth Watters. 
Haverford, Llanerch, Pa.; Rosella Wayne, 
Mount Nazareth Academy. Bellevue ; Lor- 
raine Wolf, Peabody; Peggy Jane Wragg, 
Allderdice; Jean Wyre, Mt. Lebanon; and 
Mary Zward, Masontown High School. 

'f/y DO YOU SAY 







Vol. XIX 

Pennsylvania College for Women, Pittsburgh, Pa., November 22, 1939 

No. 2 

Page Two 


November 22, 1939 


Pennsylvania College for Women 

Pittsburgh, Pa. 

Subscription $1.00 per year in advance 

1939 Member 1940 

Pissociofed Golle6iate Press 


National Advertising Service, Inc. 

College Publishers Representative 
4.20 Madison Ave. New York. N. Y. 

ckicaco ■ boston ■ los angeles • san francisco 

Editorial Staff 

Co-Editors Betty Eastwood, '40 

Rachel Kirk. '40 

Business Manager Ruth Fite. '40 

News Editor Nancy Over. '40 

Assistant News Editor Dorothy Evans, '42 

Feature Editor Jo Anne Healey, '41 

Literary Editors Renee Schreyer, '40 

Jean Miller, '42 

Copy Editor Claire Stewart, '42 

Make-up Editor Katherine Rutter, '40 

Staff Photographer raher'- e Thompson. '40 

Proof Readers Jean Hammer, '41 

Louise Haldeman, '43 
Claire Horwitz, '43 

Copy Readers Rose Marie Fillippelli, '43 

Marjorie Noonan, '43 
Faculty Advisor Hazel C. Shupp 

News Staff 

Jane Evans, Dorothy Marshall, Lucille Cummings, Jean Sweet, Dotty 
Oliver, Marion Rowell. Helen Waugh, Margaret Anderson, Mary Ann 
Macky, Betty Ann Morrow. Marian Lambie. 

Feature Staff 

Helen Schellkopf, Mildred Stewart, Jean Burchinal, Margery Heth, 
Althea Lowe, Betty Brown, Mary Louise Henry, Jeanne Anne Ayres, 
Mary Alice Spellmire, Mary Evelyn Ducey, Janet Ross, Betty 

Business Staff 

Betty Bacon, Alison Croft, Peggy Dietz. Jane Fitzpatrick, Eleanor 
Garrett. Virginia Gillespie, Marjorie Higgins, Beth Howard, Jane 
McCall, Mary Jane McCormick, Nancy Scott. Gloria Silverstein, Mary 
Singer, Bizzy Ward, Lois Wirth. 

Jottings in the Margin 

Change-of-face note . . . the new stationery and 
jewelry in the book-room . . . college crests all over the 
place . . . Sudden thought ... I waste more good time 
waiting for people who wouldn't be worth waiting for if 
they were on time ... if you get what I mean . . . 
How long and lovely the fall has been . . . Campus pass- 
word . . . "how gruesome!" . . . What-is-this-younger- 
generation-coming-to-department . . . young ladies who 
should be putting up their hair and lengthening their 
skirts hastening to don the knee-high socks of unhappy 
childhood memory . . . Can anything be done this win- 
ter about the radiators that sizzle and knock and pop 
while the chapel speaker struggles manfully to be heard? 
. . . The most beautiful sight in Pittsburgh . . . the 
slow curving of the serenely old-fashioned gas lamps 
along Woodland Road. 


The Arrow has always been among the firmest advo- 
cates of the Reform the Clubs movement. In fact, back 
m 1936 the then-editor of the PCW paper, in a series of 
editorials proposed that a study of the clubs, their pur- 
poses and programs, be instigated with a view to cor- 
recting the evils. 

What happened? For a while there was excitement. 
Clubs dusted off old constitutions and added a few stricter 
provisions for paying dues and attending meetings. The 
members were solemnly read the "purpose" of the club 
as stated in the charter or Article I of the constitution. 
Efforts were made to have reasonably interesting speak- 
ers and fairly good programs by members themselves ,and 
the refreshments picked up noticeably. 

Then the special committee attempted really to get at 
the root of the mess, by decreasing the number of or- 
ganizations with mergers of some groups having similar 
interests and dissolution of those which could not prove 
satisfactorily their usefulness. The howl that was raised 
drowned out any faint applause that might have been 
started. Club officers took alarm at the thought of losing 
prestige; club members wanted all the extra-curricular 
activities they could cram in; professors hesitated to ap- 
prove the removal of the club of their departments. 

The result of this previous attempt to reform the club 
system is obvious. It failed. There continued just as 
many clubs as before and in a few months, they slipped 
back into the familiar rut — lack of interest, planning, and 

So now the Student Government Board believes that 
the situation has grown so confused that another pro- 
posal for improvement is due. Those of us who have 
rushed from club meeting to club meeting and who have 
often felt when we did get there that we received no 
particular benefit, hope that a settlement agreeable to all 
can be found. Knowing human nature, we can do no 
more than hope. 


One gleam of light shines in the pre-holiday gloom. In 
the confusion of blue books, term papers, club changes, 
and rehearsals, one group is maintaining a commendable 
concentration. The newly-organized Chapel Committee 
has this paper's wholehearted support for its plans and 

In the past years, chapel has not served its purpose 
very well, as its chronic state of de-population shows. Of 
course a few spartan souls do go each day, mainly to 
avoid Chapel Court it seems, but their interest is about 
as warming as Lem-n-Blend in Antartica. 

Comes now a Committee to the rescue! The chances 
are we will soon run, not walk, to chapel. The Arrow 
can not say too much in praise of its efforts, particular- 
ly the closing of the doors. It has been positively heart- 
rending, seeing speakers floundering around and clear- 
ing their throats to get attention. The Committee will do 
its best to get us programs that are interesting, now 
we must help out. Please co-operate just this once. It 
won't be so bad, now will it? 

November 22, 1939 


Page Three 

Cliristmas Pageant 
Will Be Presented 

Music Department and 
Dance Group Perform 

The annual Christmas Pageant 
^vill be presented in the chapel by 
the Music Department under the 
direction of Mrs. Ayres, and the jun- 
ior and senior dance gi'oups con- 
ducted by Miss Errett, Sunday even- 
ing, December 17. Included in this 
dance group are Madge Medlock, 
Renee Schreyer, Betty Eastwood, 
Ruth Bauer, Betty Steffler, Alice 
Chattaway, Dorothy Oliver, Rachel 
Kirk, Aethelbui-ga Schmidt, Eliza- 
beth Frey and Margaret Bebertz. 

While the audience gathers, the in- 
strumental group under Miss Held, 
accompanied by Mr. Collins at the 
srgan, will play several old Christ- 
mas carols. The robed chorus will 
then enter in procession singing "Oh, 
"ome All Ye Faithful" in which the 
audience will join. 

Following the procession. Dr. Dox- 
3ee will read the traditional Christ- 
mas story which the chorus will in- 
terpret with songs. The program will 
continue with the Annunciation, a 
[ullaby, and the march of the Wise 
Men, to be interpreted by the mod- 
ern dance group. Finally, the 
chorus and the modern dance group 
will express the great spirit of the 
joy of Christmas. 

The traditional performance will 
begin at 5:30 o'clock and will be fol- 
lowed by a second performance at 
6:45 o'clock. 

Students Will Hear 
Mrs. Friedberg 

Mrs. Lillian Adlow Friedberg will 
speak on Monday, December 4, to 
the student body on The Effects of 
World Events on the Economic 
Status of Women. For several years, 
Mrs. Friedberg has been interested in 
problems affecting the status of 
women and in world events pertain- 
ing to war. 

After graduating from Radcliflfe 
College, Mrs. Friedberg obtained her 
master's degree there. She was the 
first nresident of the Radcliflfe Club 
in Western Pennsylvania and has 
been a leader in educational activi- 
ties of other university women, as 
well as in Jewish groups. In addi- 
tion, she serves as chairman of social 
studies and as a director of the 
American Association of University 

Student Body Elects 
Louise Caldwell 
Prom Chairman 

Louise Caldwell, president of the 
junior class, has been elected chair- 
man of the Junior Promenade by 
the student body. Committee mem- 
bers chosen by the Student Govern- 
ment Board to assist the chairman 
are Inez Wlieldon, senior member, 
Elaine Fitzwilson, junior member, 
Margaret Graham, sophomore mem- 
ber, and Cyn- 

t h i a K u h n, I 

freshman mem- 
Friday, March I 

1, is the date! 

set for the 

dance, which 1 

will be held at 

the Twentieth 

Century Club. I 

As yet no def- I 

inite plans have 

been made by 

the committee 

concerning the ] 

place or theme 
of the prom. 

Chairman Louise Caldwell is not 
a novice at committee work. She 
was a member of the Junior Prom 
Committee at Edgewood High School 
where she prepared for college. Here 
at PCW she served on the Fall Dance 
and Junior Prom committees dur- 
ing her sophomore year. 

Besides being a member of the 
dance committees, Louise was on the 
Freshman Commission of her class 
and was a member of the Vocational 
Committee last year. She is also a 
member of the Dramatic Club. 

Chapel Features Movie 
^'^Through the Rockies" 

John C. Borg of the Denver and 
Rio Grande Western Railroad will 
show the movie, "Thru the Rockies," 
on Monday, November 27. 

The movie pictures the trip from 
Denver to Salt Lake City by way of 
Colorado Springs, the Pikes Peak Re- 
gion and the Royal Gorge, and the re- 
turn trip by the Moffat Tunnel, a 
scenic shortcut along the Colorado 

Interspersed throughout the picture 
are many interesting side trips to 
such spots as the Gunnison River, 
famed for its trout fishing; the Col- 
orado National Monuments near 
Grand Junction; and Mesa Verde Na- 
tional Park, 

SGA Board Urges 
Clul) Reorganization 

Submits Problem 
To Students 

Almost 90 per cent of the student 
body thinks the PCW club system can 
be impro\ed, according to the results 
of a questionnaire distributed in 
Student Government meeting Thurs- 
day, November 9. 

The SGA Board, working on the 
theory that clubs are student activi- 
ties and as such, should be under its 
jurisdiction, has resolved itself into a 
committee to suggest remedies for the 
chaotic club situation. The recent 
questionnaire was the first step in the 
investigation, and the student sug- 
gestions will be followed by the 
Board in making its final proposal. 

Improvement Urged 

Of the 160 persons who answered 
the questionnaire. 115 favor generally 
leaving the clubs as they now are, but 
making them conform to certain 
standards set by SGA. Only two stu- 
dents, both seniors, would solve the 
problem by complete dissolution of all 
clubs, and 28 would merge them into 
four groups, following the classifica- 
tion in the curriculum. 

In the space provided for other 
suggestions by the entire association, 
most frequently appeared the need 
for definite entrance requirements, 
more faculty participation, more fre- 
quent meetings. Many students pro- 
posed Wednesday afternoon bridge- 
teas to take the place of club meet- 
ings and fulfill their social purpose. 

Although an overwhelming major- 
ity thought the club system could be 
improved, over half of those who an- 
swered the questionnaire felt that 
tJiey had actually gotten something 
from their membership. For the pur- 
pose of joining clubs, most persons 
checked the social reason — the aid in 
getting acquainted, or the scholastic 
purpose — clubs as a supplement to 
class work. 

Seniors were most critical of the 
clubs, giving as their reasons for fail- 
ure of the system: poor organization, 
uninteresting meetings, indifference 
and lack of cooperation among the 
members, too much emphasis on the 
purely social aspects. 

There are 18 students in the three 
upper classes who belong to no club, 
71 who belong to one, 48 who belong 
to two clubs, and 17 who attend meet- 
ings of three clubs. 

Page Four 


November 22, 1939 

New Planetarium 
Formally Opened 

Building Dedicated 
As Buhl Memorial 

The Buhl Planetarium and the 
associated Institute of Popular Sci- 
ence was dedicated on October 24 as 
a memorial to Henry Buhl, Jr., and 
to the advancement of culture and 
education. Charles L. Lewis, Di- 
rector of the planetarium, says that 
the planetarium teaches "that 
everything in the universe takes 
place in compliance with eternal un- 
changing laws." It also satisfies 
man's natural curiosity about the 
stars and planets. Pittsburgh is the 
fifth city in the United States to 
have a planetarium. But since the 
Buhl Planetarium is the most recent, 
it is the most modern and the best 

Three Shows Daily 

Three shows are presented each 
day in the planetarium. A magnified 
replica of the heavens is projected on 
a dome-shaped ceiling. As the pro- 
jector moves, it shows the sky as 
seen from different view points and 
at different seasons of the year. 

Exhibits in the institute are the 
chemical exhibit of indoor farming 
where seeds grow in aqueous solu- 
tions of chemicals, various exhibits 
of physical chemistry, a collection of 
timepieces, a collection of as- 
tronomical paintings, various as- 
tronomical instruments, a series of 
scales which tells what one would 
weigh on other planets, a number 
of discharge tubes demonstrating 
the passage of electricity through 
gases, a cosmic ray counter, a model 
of a Van de Graff generator. 

Driving Skill Tested 

The building also provides a meet- 
ing place and workshop for amateur 
astronomers. There is a dark room 
for photography, rooms for wood- 
work and metal work, and an optical 
shop where the astronomers spend 
many hours grinding and perfecting 
mirrors and lenses. On the ground 
floor is a highway safety exhibit. 
Drivers are tested for their skill in 
operating automobiles under cer- 
tain road conditions. 

The directors are planning to have 
a Popular Science Fair some time 
this year. This will be a contest in 
which students may enter scientific 

Freshmen Entertain 
Members of YW 

The YWCA had its annual 
dinner Monday evening, November 
6, at 6:00 o'clock. The freshmen 
provided the entertainment after- 
wards. Dorothy Geschwindt, '41, 
was general chairman of the din- 
ner. Beatrice Dobson, Frances John- 
son, and Mary Kay Eisenberg, all '41, 
helped her with decorations. 

Dorothy Brooks was chairman of 
the burlesque, "Hamlet in Stream- 
line," which the freshmen presented 
after dinner in the auditorium. Col- 
leen Lauer and Jean Wyre were the 
property managers. The cast includ- 
ed Marjorie Noonan, reader, and 
actresses, Jean Sweet, Jane Hum- 
phreys, Florence Croyle, Lucille 
Cummins, Ruth Gilson, Jane McCall, 
Virginia Gillespie, Mary Lou Henry, 
Marjorie Heth, Amy McKay, Lor- 
raine Wolf, and Louise Haldeman. 
The singers were Marian Kiefler, 
Rosella Wayne, June Hunker, Jean 
DeWoody, and Josette Kott. Betty 
Simpson and Jane Evans each did a 
tap dance accompanied by Mary 
Kay Eisenberg at the piano. 

Student Teachers Hold 
Annual Dinner 

The Annual Student Teachers' din- 
ner which PCW gives in honor of its 
students who are doing practice 
teaching, was given in Woodland 
Hall, Tuesday evening, November 7. 

Over 60 guests attended, among 
whom were President Herbert L. 
Spencer, Dean M. Helen Marks, 
members of the Board of Education, 
heads of the departments of PCW, 
and principals of the Pittsburgh 
public schools where practice teach- 
ing is done. 

The dinner was held in a pro- 
gressive style with the guests chang- 
ing tables after each course. At 
each place was a large apple. Fol- 
lowing the dinner a number of in- 
formal talks were given and the 
guests were entertained in the draw- 
ing room with group singing and 
a spelling bee. 

There are twelve PCW girls doing 
practice teaching this year in six of 
the city schools. The committee in 
charge of the dinner was Nancyanne 
Cockerille, Helen Lohr, Mary Ellen 
Ostergard, Katherine Rutter, and 
Jean Watson, all seniors. 

Pittsburgh Author 
Atlvises Students 
At Omega Meeting 

Miss Marie McSwigan said that 
writing is a "super-refined slavei"y" 
when she spoke to the members of 
Omega, Wednesday, November 8. 
Miss McSwigan, for four years re- 
porter for the Pittsburgh Press, is 
the author of the biography of the 
late John Kane, eminent artist. 

She showed innumerable sketches, 
and some of the famous "colored 
photographs" that Kane had given 
to her when she visited him. She 
even brought the pipe which 
he is playing in one of his self-por- 
traits. Her biography uf Kane is 
tlie first that has been written. 

As all true reporters, who want to 
write a book one day, Miss Mc- 
Swigan stopped her newspaper work 
and at the request of Mrs. John Kane 
started to write Sky Hooks in 1932. 
She completed this book in 1933 in 
time to read it to Kane before his 

Miss McSwigan told the group 
that writing is a lonesome career, 
that it is learned only through much 
effort. Her advice to embryonic 
writers is always to have at hand a 
reference library, dictionary of for- 
eign languages, a world almanac, 
Roget's Thesaurus, old copies of 
Reader's Digest, Life, and even a 
cook book. 

She advises writers to have a well- 
rounded outline or synopsis of what 
they are going to write before they 
think of starting. She rewrites her 
articles and books three times, and 
if she can't iron out the difficulties 
then, she says that it isn't worth 

Miss McSwigan believes in self- 
discipline and writes for four hours 
every day. After her alloted "writ- 
ing time" has expired, she walks for 
relaxation. She says that it is re- 
markable how easily a seemingly 
hopeless plot will unravel when you 
get away from it. 

Miss McSwigan keeps a notebook 
in which she jots down ideas that 
may be enlarged upon later, extra- 
ordinary things that she hears or 
reads, clippings, words, and names. 

She said that there are two ways 
to reach the ultimate goal — pub- 
lication — by way of the pulp mag- 
azines, which are composed of love, 
western and detective stories, or by 
means of juvenile books. 

November 22, 1939 


Page Five 

Chemistry Majors 
Hold Discussions 
In Buhl Hall 

Every Monday afternoon, in the 
science library of Buhl Hall, the 
chemisti'y department holds its week- 
ly seminar. Tea is served at 4:00 
and from -1:30 to 5:30 there is a 
speech followed by a discussion. 

Seminar is a two-year requirement 
for all chemistry majors, but any out- 
siders who are interested are wel- 
come. Anyone desiring to attend must 
inform Sue Woolridge in advance. 

This semester, authorities in vari- 
ous fields of chemistry will speak 
each week. For next semester tenta- 
tive plans are being made for dis- 
cussions on mathematics in relation 
to chemistry. 

During the first semester of last 
year t'le history of chemistry was 
very thoroughly studied and discuss- 
ed. Industrial Chemistry was the 
subject of the second semester's 
study. The girls visited various in- 
dustrial plants in the city and gave 
individual discussions on their obser- 

Chemistry Seminar 

October 9 Dr. Kirner 

Coal Research Laboratory 

Carnegie Tech 


October 16 Dr. Wallace 

Chemistry Department 

Pennsylvania College For Women 

"Phases Of Research" 

October 23 Mr. McClellan 

Carnegie Tech Librarian 
"Use of the Science Library" 

October 30 Dr. Wenzel 

Mellon Institute 
"Surface Phenomena" 

November 6 Dr. Olcott 

Mellon Institute 
"Technology Of Cotton" 

November 13 Dr. Almy 

Research Laboratory of 

H. J. Heinz Co. 
"Research On Foods" 

November 20 Mr. Warren 

Fisher Science Company 
"Designing New Apparatus" 

November 27 Mr. Runnett 

Aluminum Company of America 

"Fabrication Of Aluminum" 

December 4 . . . . Miss Charlotte Ley 

Graduate of PCW 

Assistant Librarian, Mellon Institute 

"Experiences As Chemical 


December 11 Dr. Thiesen 

Koppers Company 
"By-Products Of Coke" 

PCW Canipaipis for 
Community Fund 

In addition to the extensive cam- 
paign being carried on throughout 
the city by the Community Fund, 
PCW has also held a campaign on 
the campus in an attempt to raise 
S600. which was its quota. Under the 
leadership of Dr. Piel, the college 
was organized into two units, name- 
ly, the faculty and the students. 

Aiding Dr. Piel, were the class 
chairmen. Each had five assistants, 
who contacted personally all mem- 
bers of their classes. The chairmen 
were Seniors Caddies Lou Kinzer; 
Junior, Anne Lindsay; Sophomore, 
Ruth Notz; and Freshman, Marian 
Kieffer. Donators to the Fund re- 
ceive a tiny red hat feather, a red 
feather window sticker and a mem- 
bership card to the American Red 

Many people wonder just what the 
Community Fund is. Briefly, it is 
the permanent organization of com- 
bined agencies in the Pittsburgh Dis- 
trict, working for the good of the un- 
derprivileged of that district. A few 
of these representative agencies are 
the Pittsburgh Chapter of the Amer- 
ican Red Cross, the Boy and Girl 
Scouts, The Irene Kaufman Settle- 
ment. Brashear Association, Pennsyl- 
vania Association for the Blind, 
Pittsburgh Goodwill Industries, Y. M. 
C. A., and many orphanages camps, 
fresh air homes, and public health 

The services of the Community 
Fund are numerous. The work of 
the combined agencies is non-sec- 
terarian, provides guidance for 
youth, care of the aged, aid for the 
handicapped, family service and 
child care. 

The Community Fund closely 
touches every individual in Pitts- 
burgh, because the things which af- 
fect the community directly affect 
everyone living in that community. 
And so everyone is urged to give 
and give freely to this worthy cause. 

December 18 Dr. Adams 

Pittsburgh Plate Glass 

Director Of Research 

"New Items In Glass and Paint" 

January 8 Mr. Venable 

Research Laboratory of 


"Safety In Industry" 

January 15 Dr. Blanck 

Recently With H. J. Heinz Co. 
"Government Laboratories" 

Careers of Distinction 
Revised IVnding 

A new edition of the booklet. 
Careers of Distinction, with slight 
changes and additions, will be pub- 
lished soon under the direction of 
Mrs. Shupp. The plan of the book 
will remain the same. 

Several new fields have been open- 
ed to women. Included among these 
fields are: medical technology, secre- 
tarial and library work with a sci- 
entific background, secretarial and 
library work with a language back- 
ground, all of which will be describ- 
ed in the new booklet. 

One page of the book will be de- 
voted to a graduate course in pre- 
civic administration and research 
which prepares for civil service posi- 
tions. Dr. Evans has done a good 
deal of investigation in this field and 
finds that it is opening rapidly. 

The page on Museum Education 
has been worked up by Dr. Doutt. 
This field is quite new. It requires 
an undergraduate major in biology 
plus postgraduate training in a well- 
equipned museum. This course leads 
to an M. A. degree. 

There has been a change in the 
dietetics course from dietetics to pre- 
dietetics. This page has been pre- 
pared by Dr. Ferguson who has been 
in touch with the school of dietetics 
at the West Penn Hospital. 

A page on Girl Scout work is 
planned and there may also be a 
page on dental hygiene although 
this plan is only tentative. 

Rabbi Jack Rothschild 
Speaks About Judaism 

Speaking of Judaism, Rabbi Jack 
Rothschild of the Rodef Shalom Tem- 
ple will address the first general 
meeting of the YWCA next Tuesday, 
November 29. He will tell the group 
of the derivation and meaning of the 
Jewish religion and will answer any 
questions. The speech is the first 
scheduled for the discussion groups 
under this year's main topic of Re- 
ligion. The faculty and student body 
are invited to attend. 

Heading the program committee 
for YWCA meetings this year is Jean 
Curry, '40, assisted by Mary Ellen 
Ostersard, '40, Jane Shidemantle, '41. 
and Betty Hazeltine, '42. 

Page Six 


November 22, 1939 

PCW Anniversary 
To Be Observed 

College Chartered 
Seventy Years Ago 

On December 11, the seventieth an- 
niversary of the state's granting of a 
charter to the Pennsylvania Female 
College will be celebrated. Yes, 
P. C .W. might have been P. F. C. if 
the students hadn't petitioned to have 
the name changed in 1892. The an- 
niversary will be recognized by a 
special chapel program. 

The movement to found the college 
was started by some members of the 
Shady Side Presbyterian Church un- 
der Dr. Beatty. The first meeting to 
plan for the college was held on 
February 23, 1869. Those who at- 
tended the meeting were Thomas 
Aiken, Joseph Dilworth, John Ren- 
shaw, Alfred Harrison, Alexander 
Chamber, David Aiken, Jr., W. B. 
Negley, W. O. Scully, and Dr. Beatty. 
They planned to get the money by 
private subscriptions and not to ap- 
ply for a charter until $50,000 had 
been subscribed. The charter was 
requested of the state court in Octo- 
ber, 1869 and was granted Decem- 
ber 11th of that year. Part of the 
object for founding the college, as 
stated in the first catalogue was: "It 
(the college) has been founded in 
the belief that these (the young wo- 
men) are entitled to educational fa- 
cilities equal in value to those af- 
forded young men — that they are 
equally capable of being profited by 
them — and that when offered they 
will avail themselves of the tender 
in sufficient numbers to warrant the 
outlay in the equipment of such an 

The first President of the college 
was Dr. James Black and the Pre- 
ceptress (no Dean then!) was Helen 
Pelletreau. James Laughlin was the 
President of the Board of Trustees 
of which there were 30 members. 

PCW is the only school in Pitts- 
burgh, that was started as a college. 
Since young ladies did not get much 
secondary schooling, the college was 
divided into two sections, the Aca- 
demic for advanced secondary work, 
and the Collateral for actual college 

The college opened the fall after 
the charter was granted. One hun- 
dred and twelve applied, and were 
put into different grades by examina- 
tions. There were six who receiv- 
ed their A. B. degree in the first 

Art Exhibit Hangs 
Mr. Rosenberg's Study 
Of Dance Rhythms 

THE DANCE, a painting by Mr. 
Rosenberg, art instructor at both 
PCW and Tech, is exhibited at the 
International Art Exhibit now being 
held in the Carnegie Museum. This 
is not the first time that he has had 
pictures in the International. In 1935 
his contribution was SIDE SHOW, in 


1937, SUNDAY MORNING, and last 

Mr. Rosenbeg painted this year's 
picture THE DANCE at his art studio 
at Tech, and was particularly inter- 
ested in catching the rhythm of the 

He was born in Philadelphia and 
studied at Carnegie Institute of Tecn- 
nology and National Academy of De- 
sign in New York, In 1918 he started 
classes at the Irene Kaufmann Settle- 
ment where he taught for eleven 
years, and he has had classes at Y. M. 
H. A. in Oakland for the last nine 

Besides Pittsburgh, he has had pic- 
tures exhibited in Buffalo, New York, 
Philadelphia, and Washington, D. C. 

He believes the European situation 
has had a tendency to make Euro- 
pean pictures exhibited in the Inter- 
national not quite up to par, and the 
/■mericm pictures superior. 

Dr. Brode To Speak 

Wednesday, December 6, is the 
date scheduled for an illustrated lec- 
ture by Dr. Wallace R. Brode on 
"Life In Russia." The pictures, upon 
which he is lecturing, were taken 
by himself in 1936 when a member 
of the Harvard University, Massa- 
chusetts Institute of Technology 
Eclipse of the Sun Expedition to Si- 

graduating class in 1873. Berry Hall 
was the first building. 

An interesting section of the cata- 
logue states that "boarding students 
will be required to walk in the open 
air at least half an hour daily, un- 
less especially excused by the pre- 

Nearly 70 years ago, the foundation 
for our college was laid. How differ- 
ent it all is now, and yet we owe 
PCW as it is today to those first stu- 
dents whose interest in their college 
made it possible for it to grow as 
it has. 

'Pittsburgh Speaks,^ 
And PCW Wins 

PCW is on the air! Mary Lou 
Shoemaker, '40, Sue Wooldridge, '41, 
and Rachel Kirk, '40, made their ra- 
dio debuts on Thursday evening, No- 
vember 2, when they took part in the 
program, ''Greater Pittsburgh 
Speaks." This program, sponsored 
by the Pittsburgh Chamber of Com- 
merce, is in the form of a battle be- 
tween two teams on questions con- 
cerning the Pittsburgh district. 

On the November 2 program the 
PCW team defeated three men from 
Duquesne University, winning by 
five points. The Duquesne team had 
been victorious the Thursday be- 
fore over a group from the Univer- 
sity of Pittsburgh. 

November 9 the girls from PCW 
nosed out by 1 1/6 points a team of 
three college graduates from Busi- 
ness Training College. 

At this writing the PCW Kierans 
have retired with laurels intact and 
are accepting all challenges. 

Miss Jones Presents 
Modern Dance Group 

Pioneering in the art of the modern 
dance, Genevieve Jones and her 
Group have built a considerable Pitts- 
burgh audience for this contempor- 
aneous art. On Thursday evening, 
November 30, the "Friends of the 
Dance" will present Miss Jones and 
the Group in a program of modern 
dances at the Twentieth Century 

Original compositions with Ameri- 
can cultural and satirical themes will 
be seen in "Young American Wo- 
man," "Jazz Suite," "Heroines of 
1917" and "New Land; New People." 
Bertha Gerson Kaufman, musical di- 
rector, has composed background 
scores for several of the dances. Betty 
Filer, Mathilde MacKinney and Mi- 
riam Johnson have also contributed 
scores. Olive Nuhfer, the Pittsburgh 
artist has designed many of the cos- 

The "New Land; New People," an 
ambitious composition which centers 
attention on the American cultural 
and historical heritage will feature 
the Group: Blanche Hoffman, Mary 
Louise Kretchman, Rose Mukerii, 
Rose Anne Serrao and several other 
young men and women. 

November 22, 1939 


Page Seven 

Music Department 
Gives Recital 

Last Monday, November 20, at 
4:30, a recital was given by students 
in the music department. The pro- 
gram follows: 

Mexican Folk Song 

Frank La Forge 

Beryl Bahr 

Hast Thou Not Known 

Frank La Forge 

Eileen Wessel 

The Mirror Lake Niemann 

Etude Melodique Rogers 

Mary K. Eisenberg 


Into the Night .... Clara Edwards 

The Moon Homer Grunn 

Frances Mahaffey 


Concerto in D Minor (allegro) . . 


Marion Cohen 
Miss Helene Welker at second piano 


Punchinello Molloy 

Whither Schubert 

Gladys Cooper 

Viennese Dance number 2 


Julia Wells 

How Can I Leave Thee 

German Folk Song 

All Through The Night 

Welsh Folk Song 

Marion Kieffer 

Moment Musical 


Ballet Musique from "Rosa- 

munde" Schubert 

Fay Cumbler 

Bonjour Suzanne Delibes 

Chansonne Triste Dupare 

Helen Ruth Anderson 

Hunter's Song Grovlez 

The Doll's Lullaby Grovlez 

The Swing Grovlez 

Sally Cooper McFarland 

Our Monthly Reminder — 

Patronize Yom- Music Store 


Hacke Building' 
207 Fifth Ave. Pittsburgh, Pa. 

Dr. Butler Expostulates 
On Ruins of Pompeii 

Wlien Dr. Ralph Magoffin failed to 
appear for a lecture before the PCW 
student body on Friday morning, No- 
vember 10, Dr. Nita L. Butler spoke 
on "Pompeii." Dr. Butler, an author- 
ity on the recent excavations in the 
ancient city, told PCW girls Pompeii 
would never be a dead city to her. 
She told of her visit to the homes 
which are now uncovered. Most of 
these ancient houses were several 
stories high and liad many conveni- 
ences, such as running water, which 
we consider modern. 

Contrary to a common belief, Dr. 
Butler explained that citizens were 
not killed by the sudden showering 
of ashes during the eruption of 
Vesuvius. The eruption was slow 
enough for all of the people to leave 
town. Those who returned were 
killed by gas and it is those people 
who were recently unearthed. 

Dr. Ralph Magoffin, the scheduled 
lecturer, is the retired head of the 
classical department at New York 
University and he was to speak on 
■"Pompeii and Herculean Risen from 
the Ashes of Vesuvius." 

Miss Marks Entertains 

On Thursday afternoon, Novem- 
ber 16, from 4 'til 6 o'clock. Miss 
Marks entertained the members of 
the faculty at a tea in Berry Hall 
drawing room. Assisting the hostess 
were Mrs. Spencer, Miss Bair, Mrs. 
Marks, and Miss Butler who poured, 
and Miss Chubb, Miss Mowry, Miss 
McFarland, Miss Perry, Miss Wei- 
gand, and Miss Griffith who served 
as aids. The tea table was decorat- 
ed with pink pompoms and white 



Wednesday 22 ... . Thanksgiving 
Vacation begins— 12:30 P. M. 

Monday 27 Thanksgiving 

Vacation Ends — 8:30 A. M. 

Monday 4 Chapel 

Lillian Adlow Friedberg 
"Effects of World Events on 
Economic Status of Women." 

Wednesday 6 10:30-11:30 

Dr. Wallace R. Erode 
"Life In Russia" 

Monday 11 

.... 70th Anniversary Program 

Anns, to Arms 

Girls Form 
Firing Squad 

If any day when you are walking 
down the driveway between Wood- 
land Hall and Berry Hall, something 
whizzes past your ear or neatly re- 
moves your newest hat from your 
head — don't be alarmed — just keep 
on walking as fast as you can, un- 
til you are a safe distance from the 
danger zone. You can either go back 
to investigate the matter (at your 
own risk), or you can take it for 
granted that it is the rifle team on the 
loose. Down under the pillars of the 
chapel in Dilworth Hall is what is 
known to a few people as the "Rifle 
Range" of PCW, and here in this se- 
cluded place at 4:30 on Tuesdays 
and Thursdays, the would be "Annie 
Oakleys" practice their sharpshoot- 

Mr. Carlton Will Instruct 

The instructor is Mr. Theodore 
Carlton from Munhall. The Munhall 
Rifle Team which Mr. Carlton coach- 
ed has held the National Inter- 
scholastic Championship for the past 
four years. Because most of the mem- 
bers of the team are beginners, Mr. 
Carlton is teaching the fundament- 
als of "how to handle and shoot a 
rifle in ten easy lessons" — but judg- 
ing from the tales of the students, the 
lessons aren't so easy. The "sharp- 
shooters" use 22 calibre rifles and 
supply their own ammunition. 

Rifle Team Organized 
The rifle team was organized by 
June Hunker, '43, Marian Rowell, 
'43. and Betty Gahagan, '42, and 
loyally supported by Barbara 
Browne, '43, Brice Black, '43, Ruth 
Notz, '42. Eleanor Gangloff, '40, 
Eleanor Beinhauer, '43, Florence 
Croyle, '43, Carol Bostwick, '42, 
Phyllis Keister, '42, Ruth Strickland, 
'41, Peggy Wragg, '43, and Eleanor 
Garret, '43. June Hunker and Marion 
Rowell have been on the Munhall 
National Champion Rifle Team for 
the last three years, so we can really 
boast of some experts in this or- 

As yet, the girls have not shot for 
scores, but they will begin in the 
near future to concentrate on ac- 
curacy as well as perfection in the 
fundamentals. Mr. Carlton hopes to 
train the girls for competition in 
the National Intercollegiate Matches 
and with other College Rifle teams. 

Page Eight 


November 22, 1939 


By Jo Anne Healey 

Well, it's only a matter of hours now, before we sit 
down and surround the old turkey — and stuffing — and 
plum pudding — and such. Oh Joy! Oh calories! The 
whole thing makes us dreamy, and sort of poetic like. We 
can't write poetry though, so we'll quote it instead. Here 

From JEAN BURCHINAL comes this poignant com- 
ment on the times: 

Thirty days hath September, 

April, June and November 

All ihe rest have thirty-one 

Unless we near from Washington (D. C). 
In the same vein we have: 

Thanksgiving used to come once a year, 
And ihat was very :iice 
But Pappy is a Republican 
So now I have it twice. 

And continuing we have a brief bit of anonymous elo- 
quence which came to us inscribed simply "It's the 
BUTCHER Boy for Me:" 

Is this really serious? 
Or merely having iCun 
Or is it just another case 
Of make a hit-and-run? 

Don't blame us! It was a contribution! 

We will leave the contributor's dep't and enter the 
Credit Noted section. And we extend the laurel of honor 
RACHEL KIRK, for the excellent showing they made on 
the recent KDKA "Greater Pittsburgh Speaks" Program. 

Our secondary laurels go to the publicity committee of 
the Knight of the Burning Pestle. Never, we think, has 
there been a more effective or extensive (and we do mean 
extensive!) campaign. Nice work! 

Confirmation of scoop! Frances Johnson got the pin! 

Among recent week-enders we note ALICE CHATTA- 
to Cornell. RUTH FITE had fun at the U. of Penna. and 
thinks she'd like to go back. She hopes he thinks ditto. 
Personal Notes 

Recipe for a sandwich— IJVEZ WHELDON and "Ham." 

It's Oberlin, W&J, and New Kensington, in order of de- 
scending interest, for JULIA WHELDON. 

MARGARET BEBERTZ has gone back to the love of 
her freshman days. Just like a woman — drag out all the 
hats in the store, and then buy the one you saw first in 
the window. 

MARY LOUISE HENRY theatens to go to Tahaiti 
with Bill, but don't despair — You can always go and look 
at her picture, which is on display at a nearby Wool- 
worth Bro's Emporium. 

NANCY WILSON uses the regal "We" when speaking 
of Tommy's new car. 

Add small tragedies ... At the recent "Open House" 
dance, JEAN SWEET spent the whole evening concen- 
trating on one man. Whereon he ups and invites AJVTY 


By Betty Crawford 

"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy" . . . 
and that goes for Jill too! So, Jack and Jill, why not 
jump aboard the amusement wagon for lots of laughs and 
fun as well as some really worthwhile entertainment? 

First on your list should be that much talked about pro- 
duction, Abe Lincoln in Illinois, which is the 1939 Pulitzer 
Prize play. Written by one of our outstanding dramatists, 
Robert E. Sherwood, this play should be an excellent way 
to celebrate Thanksgiving. Raymond Massey has been 
highly praised for his interpretation of the role of Honest 
Abe. The play is at the Nixon for the week of Novem- 
ber 20th. 

One of the outstanding pictures of the month is Frank 
Capra's Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. Jimmie Stewart 
and Jean Arthur have the leading roles. Lots of laughs 
mingled with excellent historical material make this 
movie well worth seeing. 

Special attention . . . English majors! The Private 
Lives of Elizabeth and Essex should be a picture of real 
interest to you, as well as to everyone else. With Bette 
Davis and Errol Flynn as its stars, and the romantic, 
legendary story of the relationship of Queen Elizabeth 
and the Earl of Essex as its plot, this promises to be an 
especially good picture. 

Most everyone has chuckled at Alec Templeton's clever 
piano interpretations . . . and now Pittsburghers have 
the opportunity to see this noted artist as well as hear 
him. Mr. Templeton is making his only local appearance 
this season at the Syria Mosque Wednesday evening, No- 
vember 29. After his formal program which includes se- 
lections from Bach, Beethoven, Rachmaninoff, Debussy, 
and Chopin, Mr. Templeton will play selections requested 
bj' the audience. 

And don't forget to visit the International Exhibition 
of Paintings at Carnegie Museum. The pictures are in- 
teresting as well as being technically good, and there is 
such a variety of subjects that you'll not be bored one 
least bit. Rather you'll come away feeling that you have 
derived much pleasure from the exhibit. (And it's worth 
your getting tired feet!) Everyone should take advantage 
of Pittsburgh's having the International and see it at least 
once. P. S. — It closes the first of December. 

McKAY, with whom he had had one dance, to the Mili- 
tary Ball. "It just ain't fair," laments Jean. 

People you should know . . . BETTY BACON, who 
recently had a proposal from a State Policeman. How 
about fixing me up with a ticket, Betty? 

"BIZZIE" WARD, who is the envy of all the girls, after 
her recent interview with Glenn Miller. 

Well, that about covers that, so we will go off and con- 
template our proofs. How they got through the mail, is 
beyond us, for we are sure they come under the heading 
of Undesirable Coverage. However, like Nelson, "our 
face respects no libel laws," and meanwhile we have 
reached the end of our column, but we'll meet you by 
the turkey. 

November 22, 1939 


Page Nine 


By Betty Eastwood 

Not Thanks Alone 

Armistice Day is passed. Tlianlvsgiving Day is com- 
ing. Two national holidays in a time of sorrow, which, 
though different in their origin, appear today very much 
alike in what they mean to us. It was a quiet Armistice 
Day here in America and in Europe where tliere is no 
peace. The crowd along the streets did not cheer as 
soldiers marched. There were tears too close to their 
eyes. They were remembering how once tliey had shout- 
ed, rejoicing over peace, that now is shattered. Armis- 
tice Day! Grim irony now! 

What can we say now, since we can not say the war is 
over? Only this on Armistice Day and on Thanksgiving 
Day. "Thank God that these soldiers march on parade 
and not to war." This we can say. "Thank God the har- 
vest time of America finds the fields rich with grain ana 
undisturbed by marching armies." This must be our 
thought now in November, 1939. We must give thanks 
with all our hearts that our homes and our youth are still 
safe. But smug thanks are not enough. We can not 
close our eyes to suffering and fear and destruction. We 
must pray without ceasing for a happier time when Ar- 
mistice Day will really mean that war is at an end, and 
when Thanksgiving Day will be a day of thanks for a ripe 
harvest in a world of peace. 
The Voice from Within 

We have sometliing new and different here in Pitts- 
burgh. Radio cops! Yes, really. Each policeman is 
equipped with a radio set, with which he can tune in the 
police station for instructions. The idea lias all sorts of 
possibilities. Here we are walking along the street and 
all of a sudden a voice from nowhere crackles out in the 
spooky way police radios do, "Go to the corner of Craig 
and Fifth — a murder." We look wildly around. Nothing 
in sight, no radio car, no radio. Nothing but a policeman 
waiting for a street car. "What did you say?" we aslv 
nervously. He blushes and puslies his tummy. The voice 
is silent. "Nothing, Madam." 

They used to say talking to yourself was a sign of in- 
sanity. Not any more. Man walks down street bellow- 
ing loudly. Not insanity. He just forgot to turn off the 
Cat Got Your Tongue? 

Robert Frost is lecturing at Harvard this fall. In an 
interviev/ he described the method by which he means to 
proceed, and we think PCW could profit by his example. 
The idea is to "stir up" the students. He wants them to 
talk and says he will lie down on the desk and snooze if 
they don't. "Maybe then they will realize I want self- 
starters, not followers," he says. 

Mr. Frost has something there. Intelligent discussion 
in class helps not only the students, but the professor, 
who gets awfully bored with his own voice. 
He who doesn't have anything to say, holds 
Mr. Frost, is on the way to becoming a "case." There are 
too many incipient "cases" at PCW. We are that way 
ourselves. Let's speak right up and prove we are capable 
of thinking. Our professors will be glad to know. 

Did you see the Army-Navy hockey game or were yuu 
one of tlie two hundred and seventy-five students who 
missed this classic of the year? The weather, the fif- 
teenth, was perfect for hockey. Moderate temperature 
with a brisk breeze ruffling the pleated shorts. As all of 
you know the Army and the Navy teams are picl^ed from 
the best players on all four class teams. The stars thus 
honored were: 

Army Navy 

Burry RW Ludlow 

Patton, G RI Fitzpatrick 

Kinzer CF Wells 

McClung LI Binford 

Hazeltine LW Arthur, R. M. 

Woll, C ■ RH Rodd 

Keister, P CH Over 

Black LH Browne. B. 

Walters RF Dunseath 

Viehman LF O'Neill 

Anderson G Fite 


Howard Scalyo 

Mclntyre Gahagan 

The opening bully was taken by Julie Wells and the 
play immediately centered in and about the general vi- 
cinity of the Army (defending) goal. Try as they did the 
Navy just couldn't do anything with the ball. Out of the 
melee shot the ball and the Army forward line. Once 
moving there was no stopping them, although the Navy 
fullbacks certainly tried. A short shot by Caddie Lou 
Kinzer, center forward, put Army into the lead with a 
one to nothing scoi-e. 

Wells, again, got the bully but the ever-alert Keister 
was on the ball and once more Army was on its way with 
Kinzer again scoring. 

With this the Navy turned on the pov/er and dominated 
the play but once again their shots were ineffectual and 
the half ended with Army leading two to nothing. 

Hard hitting and a dogged determination marked the 
second half and finally a pass from the backfield to Ruth 
Mary Arthur, fleet-footed wing, yielded a spectacular 
solo dash and score for Navy. This buoyed up the hopes 
of the Navy team but these were again dampened when 
Kinzer shoved her third goal over the pay-stripe to put 
Army into a three to one lead that they never re- 

The game was characterized by splendid defense work 
by the Army full, Walters and Viehman, and goalie, 
Mocky Anderson, while O'Neill and Dunseath should take 
the bows for the Navy defense. The attack of both 
teams was badly hampered by a rough field so that ac- 
curate shots and passes were few and far between. The 
work of several freshmen, especially, Walters, Black, and 
Fitzpatrick, gives great promise for games and teams to 

Page Ten 


November 22, 1939 

Brain Truster's Paradise - - - 

What do you do when we find yourself in the library 
with time to spare? Do you tell Jean how Jane lost John 
... Or do you read the editorial of the New Yorker? 
... Or try to inviegle the new copy of Esquire away 
from the desk? ... Or sleep? 

If you have done these things, you have been wasting 
your youth, your education, and your time. It is the 
purpose of this article to give you something definitely 
advantageous to do while waiting for Tempus to fugit. 
Go down to the Norman room, and look at the books. 
Spend one hour a day in this room, and you can pass the 
examination that leads to the Brain Trust. So why not 
start now, and amaze your friends with the new "you?" 
There is so much that you don't know. For instance: 

What does it mean if you dream that you see a duck 
with a rope around its neck? Don't wait till you have 
this dream. Go now and find the answer in Psychoanaly- 
sis in the Class Room. 

Who said, "Boys are never quite natural when they 
know they are being watched?" The name of this genius 
is in ChHdren in the Shadow. 

Can you discuss "The chances on the circus becoming 
the future theater?" No? Well read The Russian Theater, 
and you will be able to. 

Do you agree that "most American husbands are 
stingy?" You will if you read The Nervous Housewife. 

Who founded the theory that "an oyster may be crossed 
-nve?" The answer and several full page pictures are 
wi-ailable in The Critic. 

And what of the poor cynic who said "Trust not a wo- 
man . . . even though she's dead?" Well, what of him? 
Find a retort in The Book of Familiar Quotations. 

All of this knowledge is in one room, bounded by four 
walls! But there is still more of value for you. Have 
you ever been told to write a theme, an "essay of opin- 
ion," on any subject you choose? And then found your- 
self without either a subject or an opinion? Your trou- 
bles are over! All you do is go down to the Norman Room 
and gaze at the yellow-striped books, and lo! from the 
titles springs a theme! And to prove that it will be a 
worthy theme, we cite the following example, which is 
made up entirely of book titles found in the Norman 
Room, and which is the basis for a tenn paper in So- 

To Begin With Why Should We Change our Present 
Form of Government? The Coming Generation will be 
Feebleminded and Semi-Insane. The Man at the Cross- 
roads realizes that the Art of Being Ruled is exemplified 
by Roosevelt in the Bad Lands. Our Children will be 
subject to the All Too Human failing for the Power of 
Alcohol, and will forget Lincoln, Lee, and Grant, and re- 
member only the Memories of the Kaiser. There is More 
That Must Be Told about the United States, because the 
Nervous Housewife is Full Up and Fed Up with the Prob- 
lems of China, and promptly forgets The Problem and 
goes to the Theater to see the School for Scandal. The 
Nature of Man cannot visualize A Far Country, but in- 
stead Gallops to the conclusion that the only solution is 
to immediately assure America's Race to Victory. 

Ain't Science Fun? 

We are beginning to feel very inferior about our lab 
work in biology. It seems that everyone else in the lab 
knows what it's all about, and we just haven't discovered 
that yet. Our experience with the amoeba made us 
dreadfully bitter for a while, and we had serious thoughts 
of joining the French Foreign Legion, but we are betteri 
now, thank you. 

The amoeba (after somebody had located it for us) 
didn't look like its picture, which we thought rather in- 
considerate of it to start with. And then it changed posi-- 
tion so rapidly that we couldn't draw it. That discour-- 
aged us so much that we gave up in disgust and just drew 
a lot of wiggly lines that may not have looked like an 
amoeba, but they certainly didn't look like anything else. 
We got all excited when we looked back because we 
thought it was going to divide, but we found out chat it 
was just using the old amoeba trick of moving in two di- 
rections at once. We were humiliated, so we buried our 
nose in the microscope and saw lots of bacteria which 
nobody else could see, and for a while we were the envy 
of the class. 

We didn't know that you had to keep putting water on 
the slide, and we finally found that our slide had dried 
up and our amoeba had become very dead. We hurriedly 
put water on him, hoping to revive him ... in fact we 
did everything but give him artificial respiration . . . 
but he was too dead to respond. We felt like a murderer, 
especially when it took them ten minutes to find us an- 
other one. We washed the dead one down the sink with 
military honors, but even the second amoeba couldn't 
erase our feeling of guilt. 

The second one was taking a nap, we think. At least, 
he wouldn't move, except for vague motions now and then 
as though he were having amoebic nightmares. It was 
suggested to us that we put him' on top of the lamp be- 
cause he might be cold. They thought maybe that would 
make him move (we had to draw him moving at this 
point), so we put him on the lamp and we even remem- 
bered to keep water on him, but we must have left him 
on too long ... at least he looked rather cooked when 
we took him off and he still wasn't moving. We peered 
around furtively and satisfied ourselves that nobody was 
watching us and then we drew lots more wiggly lines 
which, if you used your imagination, could have been an 
amoeba trying to get some place else in an awful hurry. 
We pretended our amoeba was still alive when we gave it 
back, and we hope nobody noticed that broiled look he 
had when we returned him. 

We really grew quite fond of our amoebae, but we have 
decided, in view of the many accidents that can happen 
to them, that we will raise dogs instead. But we will 
always keep a soft spot in our hearts for the two amoebae 
we knew personally, in spite of the bitterness and frustra- 
tion that attended our brief acquaintance. 

November 22, 1939 


Page Eleven 


By Ann Hamiltcn Miller, 40 

Editor's Note: Ann Hamilton Miller. '40 
Epent her junior year at the University of 

Before telling you any of my ex- 
periences as an American student in 
Germany, it is important that I. 
first of all, tell you how Germany 
and the German people impress me; 
for without this background we are 
apt to have a misunderstanding, you 
and I. Just one parenthesis how- 
ever, to those of you who have trav- 
eled through Germany — my opin- 
ions and impressions may clash with 
yours. Try to remember, please, 
Germany was my home for ten 
months, and in those ten months I 
made a conscious effort to live as a 
German, not as a foreigner. 

If I were to forget all else about 
Germany — but believe me, I never 
shall — one characteristic would still 
remain as that which attracted my 
attention throughout all of ten 
months and which made me feel the 
veritable foreigner when I arrived 
in New York again. Have you ever, 
in America, seen a city of 800 
thousand, or 4 million, or even a 
small town of 100 thousands inhabi- 
tants of which you could say, "It's 
clean?" In fact have you found a 
single street in any size American 
city that wasn't cluttered with pa- 
per or dead leaves, or dirty with 
slush and old snow? If you long 
for that here sadly absent public 
cleanliness, go to Germany. Go to 
any part of Germany. I defy you 
to find any waste bigger than a 
cigarette butt on the street or side- 
walk and that will be there no long- 
er than 24 hours. Every morning 
a little, old street-cleaner will be 
out with a brush patiently and dis- 
passionately sweeping. It's strange, 
but all the street-cleaners I saw 
were very little and very old, and 
the handles of their brushes were, 
all much too long for the men who 
manipulated them. Their snow- 
shovels were just as too big; how- 
ever these queer little men in black, 
badly-fitting, but surely comfortable 
uniforms adjusted themselves nice-' 
ly. Their work is not lucrative if 
there's no snow, or if the leaves 
aren't falling, for waste-paper is 
deposited in iron baskets hung on 
fences or attached to little wooden 

It may seem to you I have gone 
to too great a length in describing 
Germany's cleanlines, but it is a 

characteristic of which everyone who 
visits Germany makes at least a 
mental note. 

But an ubiquitous clean-up cam- 
paign was not the sole source of 
wonder for an American, for an Am- 
erican who lived her whole life in 
Pittsburgh. Everyone was so nice 
to me; everyone wanted so much 
that I like Germany and her people, 
that I enjoy myself, that I be happy, 
and above all that I feel at home. 
In going into this, I must admit I 
lived in that part of Germany which 
is noted for its "gemutlichkeit" and 
its friendliness — that most amazing 
of cities, Munich. 

Within the first few days of my 
arrival, I went to see the famous 
Rathaus, where at one o'clock every 
afternoon lifelike figures in the 
tower dance. With all due regard 
to Miss Piel, I must admit my Ger- 
man was not good in those early 
days, and my confidence was at a 
low ebb. I used a minimum of words 
to express my desires, and I prac- 
ticed while walking along the street, 
or climbing steps, or waiting for 
street cars, what I should say and 
how. On this day, for four blocks 
I planned, and practiced, and pat- 
ted myself mentally on the back as 
I made progress. I was going to 
say, in German of course, "I beg 
your pardon. Can you tell me, 
please, how I come to the Rathaus?" 
In English I can say it all in one 
breath, but in German it took three 
breaths — "pardon," breath: "please." 
breath; and "Rathaus," longest 
breath of all. That was partly ner- 
vousness too, I think. The moment 
came as I stood waiting for a traffic 
light to go my way. There was a 
policeman there wearing a green 
uniform and a shiny metal hat. 
"Aren't these Germans handsome 
though!" I translated that thought. 
I was always doing that until I 
came to think automatically in Ger- 
man. I think I was trying to sneak 
up on my mind, trying to make my- 
self believe those words had really 
come to me in German. At any rate, 
by the time I had the right cases 
and tenses, the light was green, and 
my policeman was gone. I chose the 
person nearest me and said, "Rat- 
haus!" He was a little startled by 
my word command, but he smiled 
and said, "Ja wohl!" took my hand 
and off we went. 

One night about six months later, 

as I contemplated Germany and the 
Germans, how they always wanted 
to help me, how patient they were 
in explaining aspects of their lives 
which were new and incomprehen- 
sible to me, how they always re- 
spected my opinion and never got 
angry, or bore a grudge against me 
if I disagreed with them, the key 
to their secret came to me. I looked 
down at a letter I had begun to a 
friend in America. Two words caught 
my eye, "I" and "you." How strange! 
How symbolical! When one writes 
"1" in English, it's capitalized. In 
German "ich" begins with a small 
letter. In English "you" is not capi- 
talized. It's "Sie" in German. 

In America it's big "I" and little 
you. In Germany it's big you and 
little I! Somehow I cannot feel that 
this phenomenon is a mere chance. 
I feel that a language grows from 
those living creatures called men 
who speak it. In this difference, 
this difference which seems so small, 
I think you will find the answer 
to a very serious question, perhaps 
even the solution to a more serious 
problem that arises therefrom: what 
makes the difference between a 
German and an American? How 
can we create a friendship between 
our two nations? 

With these two questions and, as 
food for thought, that rather start- 
ling grammatical fact about you and 
me, I close my first article on Ger- 
many. I haven't been able to say 
a great deal, but I do hope that this 
may have proved to be an introduc- 
tion to the Germany you may have 
forgotten exists. A Germany that 
lives on and on, no matter what the 
political status. A Germany which 
you must learn to know before you 
rass judgment. 


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Page Twelve 


November 22, 1939 

The Amciicdn Way 

... by R€n€€ Schrcycr '4C 

The boards of the floor were worn 
smooth and black from men's heavy 
shoes and school girls' brown and 
white oxfords. The black marble of 
the soda fountain, at the left of the 
door, betrayed its long past shining 
newness only by a gleaming ring 
left by a wet glass. The clerk picked 
up the glass with one hand, rubbed 
a dirty grey cloth over the spot with 
the other hand, and put the glass 
back. Drops of moisture rolled down 
the glass; the wet ring reappeared. A 
haze of blue cigarette smoke drifted, 
and stopped, and drifted again, seek- 
ing an outlet into the open air. 
Shelves of cellophane-wrapped teddy 
bears, toilet articles, stationery, ther- 
mos bottles, above the wooden 
booths along the right hand wall; 
piles and piles of candy boxes on the 
counter in the middle back; tiny 
boxes, bottles, vials on the pharmacy 
counter at the left. Men standing 
aimlessly beside the pin ball machine 
near the door; the clang, clang of the 
handle as it shot the silver ball 
around and through and into the 
number under the glass case. The 
American corner drugstore awaited 
the arrival of tiie school girls who 
drink its eternal Coca Colas and 
smoke its endless cigarettes. 

The soft tread of four pairs of 
?add''e shoes broke the monotony of 
the dingy store. Four laughing, care- 
free voices entered from the fresh 
air. Four sweaters and four skirts 
sat down in a narrow booth. The 
four girls, with one movement, dump- 
ed their armloads of books on the 
floor beside them. Notebooks and 
textbooks dropped with a bang; the 
girls laughed. 

"What shall we have?" 

The storekeeper came forward to 
take their orders. 

"What will you have, girls?" He 
laughed, too. 

"I'll have a large Coca Cola — with 
ice.'' The girl's English was correct 
and precise. She looked up at him 
from under her eyelashes. 

"I'll have one, too — and a pack of 
Camels." She frowned, as she spoke, 
and reached for a straw. 

"The same." The dark haired one 
reached in her purse and laid a leath- 
er cigarette case on the table. 

"Four large cokes, then," the fourth 
giggled, and turned toward her 

The sound of the rise and fall of 
their voices filled the room. They 

talked quickly and urgently, in uni- 
son. Silence. Then again with a rush 
of words to express their thoughts, 
feelings, moods. 

"Practice teaching is fun, but it 
wears me out. I had to teach today. 
I gave the kids an intelligence test. 
One has an I.Q. of 68." Her words 
ran together; she punctuated her 
sentences with a giggle. 

The brown haired girl, sitting be- 
side her, frowned, then raised an 
eyebrow. They all made sounds of 

"I got a letter today!" The girl 
opposite her spoke and finished in a 
lilt of happiness and anticipation. 

"What? Again?" They all said 
and laughed. "Good work!" 

Their orders were brought, and 
they all sat sipping their drinks 
tlirough two straws and smoking cig- 

Tlie dark liaired girl spoke thought- 
fully, "I have to write a story, and I 
just can't think of a plot." 

"I'm glad I don't have to write 
this year. I just can't." The brown 
haired girl was speaking. Her eye- 
brows drew together. "I'm so filled 
up with one thing. I write words 
and words, and they all mean the 
fame thing, and no one listens. The 
Germans are all so happy! And here 
everyone goes around with a long 
face. Why are they so dumb? Why 
can't they listen and feel what I 

Silence gathered around the in- 
tenseness of her words. The three 
others looked at her and at each 

"Are you all coming to the dance?" 
The subject was changed. Relieved, 
they all spoke together. Serious, one 
moment, gay, the next, they spoke 
and were spol-:en to. The Coca Colas 
were disappearing quickly. The girls 
put out their cigarettes and relit sec- 
ond ones. Oblivious to all around 
them, they talked and laughed and 
talked some more. 

The clerk behind the counter turn- 
ed on the radio. Foreign words, 
spoken intensely, ran on and on, and 
no one listened. The clang, clang of 
the machine went on relentlessly. 
The storekeeper rattled the glasses 
as he washed them. The conversa- 
tion in the booth became lower. 

"Shh!" The dark haired girl turn- 
ed, looking for the radio. "Who is 
that speaking?" 

"It's French, isn't it? It must be 
Daladier, answering Hitler's peace 
proposition. Can you understand 

They all turned toward the listen- 
ing girl. 

"God, I hope he wants peace," the 
brown headed girl said. Her voice 
had regained the intenseness of be- 

The listening girl spoke flatly, not 
looking at her friend, sitting opposite 
her. "The answer is — no peace." 

The voice on the radio stopped. A 
different voice started giving the Eng- 
lish translation. All heads were 
turned toward the voice; all listened. 
The translation was slow and halting, 
robbing the original speech of its 
fervor of the faith in right and hate 
of wrong. The voice stumbled on — 

"Hitler wants the world; he shall 
not have it — " 

The brown haired girl shouted, "He 
doesn't want the world. He wants the 
Germans to have what belongs to 
them. He wants Germany to be rec- 
ognized for the glory that it is, and 
her people for the glorious name that 
is theirs!" 

The dark haired girl's mouth tight- 
ened. She looked very French for a 
moment. She shuddered at the oth- 
er's voice, as her friend stumbled 
on — 

"Why does Daladier want war? He 
wants to kill the Germans and stamp 
out Hitler, the greatest man in the 
world!" Her words were harsh with 
hate and resentment. 

The dark haired one reached for 
lier cigarette case. Her fingers trem- 
bled as she put a cigarette to her 
mouth. The brown headed girl picked 
up the matches, struck one and lit 
the other's cigarette. She smiled. 

"March soldiers of France — " 

The dark haired girl lool'Ced up 
from her cigarette. "Thank you," 
she said softly. 


By Frances Mahafifey '40 

The trees shudder behind fanning 
At that He-giant, the wind 
Who shakes their shivering torsos 
And blusters their shivering bellies, 
Leaving them clutching at their 
nudity — 

November 22, 1939 


Page Thirteen 


... By l\athcrin€ Ruttcr, '4C 

He said his name was Ray Mar- 
shall. As he introduced himself, he 
spoke that name so readily that no 
one would have suspected it to be an 
alias. It had almost ceased to be 
an alias, perhaps; and it was much 
easier to say than Ray Mulligan 
which was his real name. As Ray 
Marshall, he spent his summers hav- 
ing "bull sessions" at Hunter Field 
and making himself a general nuis- 
ance. As Ray Mulligan, he went 
to, Sunday School every Sunday so 
that he could go to the church swim- 
ming parties at Eastwood Pool. 

Ray Marshall was also the name 
he gave to the cops. And the cops 
had a permanent record card with 
that name topping it. Ray liked cops. 
They weren't such bad guys after all. 
They couldn't do anything to him. He 
was still a little under fourteen. Cops 
couldn't prosecute kids under four- 
teen. If he weren't just under the 
age limit, he would be sunk when 
the man in the corner house couldn't 
stand any more of the gang's singing 
and called the police. Ray's bass 
voice always made that old sour- 
puss mad. And Ray was the only 
one in the gang who could sing 
"There's a Hole in the Bottom of 
the Sea" to its finish. Everyone else 
lost out when they came to the wart 
on the frog on the log in the bot- 
tom of the sea, but he could keep 
on going clear down to the germ on 
the hair on the wart. Usually when 
he reached the last "hole in the bot- 
tom of the sea," and was holding 
■"sea," the scout car came over the 
hiU. Spider, Hunky Joe, Farmer, 
and the rest of the guys lit out to 
the woods; Ray was left holding the 
bag. He couldn't get around so fast 
on his crutches. The cops would tell 
him to quit singing or they would 
haul him in. O. K., let them haul 
him in. It was fun to ride in the 
scout car. Its radio picked up really 
good stuff. He had been the first 
guy on the hiU to know that Woody 
Brooks had stabbed some bird that 
was trying to get smart. That was 
the night the gang had left him to 
explain the unlocked swings on the 
playgrounds. But maybe they hadn't 
been sorry they ran when he scooped 
the whole neighborhood on a stab- 

Having to use crutches wasn't so 
bad. He kind of liked them now. 
People were sympathetic when they 
saw how he had to hobble around. 

When old Pop Thomas heard about 
how often he had been in the hos- 
pital, he said he thought Ray should 
smoke cigarettes in spite of his 
grandma's disapproval. Anyone who 
had been dead four minutes needed 
cigarettes, so Pop slipped Ray many 
a pack. That being dead hadn't 
bothered Ray much, though. He had 
been a hero when he woke up. The 
papers all carried stories about him. 
Everyone had wanted to see him. 
The doctors and nurses fussed over 
him. His grandma said she was 
sorry for every cross word she had 
ever said to him. The kids flocked 
around him, and asked how it felt to 
be dead. He didn't know; he hadn't 
felt anything. He was sure he hadn't 
been in a place with golden streets. 
All the kids were sure of that, too; 
they wanted a description of the 
other place. Everyone wanted to 
hear about one place or the other. 
Even the minister had talked ser- 
iously with him about it. He could 
only say he had been unconscious. 
Still people looked at him with awe. 
Some who had always chased him 
went out of their way to speak to 
him, even the man on the corner. 
And he had missed a whole semester 
of school. He was proud to say that 
his mastoid operation had come so 
close to his brain. Hadn't he been 
trying for seven years to prove to 
his teachers that he had at least a 
little bit of brain? Now they knew. 
He didn't know he had been dead 
until the doctors told him. He guess- 
ed they knew what they were talking 
about. They had given him ether, 
and he had supposed he hrd just been 
unconscious from it. He wouldn't 
have cared so much if he had passed 
out, but he was kind of glad they 
had been able to bring him around. 
Life was fun. Before his operation, 
he had always done pretty much as 
he pleased, but after he found that 
he had been dead — gee, it must be 
awful easy to die — he decided he was 
going to have all the fun and excite- 
ment he could get. Grandma would 
probably preach at him. That old 
pain-in-the-neck! What had she 
ever done? She had never had any 
excitement or fun. She had never 
pven seen the inside of a police sta- 
tion. Yeh, that siege in the hospital 
had fixed things. Cram everything 
into one day, tomorrow was far 
bway. Get a thrill while you have 
the chance. The cops wouldn't bother 

iiini, liiey couidii'l. Tiiere wa.s nnUi- 
ing else to worry about. 

Not till he got blood poison in his 
foot. anyway. That was a year after 
his mastoid operation. It nearly fin- 
ished him, too. He would probably 
always limp, but he wouldn't always 
use the crutches. They wore no 
good. He thought he would get rid 
of them right away. His loot felt 
O. K. He would try walking without 
them soon. Maybe that wouldn't be 
such a good idea, though. Miss Blake 
had let him slide through in His- 
tory because he had such y hard time 
getting around. And his crutches 
were a good excuse for being late 
to class. That gave him a chance to 
grab a smoke between classes. Some 
of the gang was always on the cor- 
ner. They all took drags off the 
same cigarette. Cigarettes were dog- 
goned expensive stuff. Better to buy 
cheap tobacco and roll your own. 
Chewing tobacco was even cheaper, 
but he had almost been expelled the 
time he chewed in class. Even his 
crutches had not saved him that day. 
His grandma had been notified about 
that episode. She didn't get to 
bawl him out, though. It had been 
spring so he had stayed out in the 
woods for a couple of nights. She 
worried about him so much that she 
forgot the note from school and wrote 
an excuse for his absence. If she 
had not written one, Pop Thomas 
would have. 

Ray didn't like to miss school, 
though. Not because of the work he 
had to make up. He never bothered 
about that. What difference if he did 
flunk? He had never passed all his 
subjects yet, so why start trying now? 
School was much more fun if you 
didn't do any work. Unless you call- 
ed it work to get Miss Fields to cry. 
That wasn't very hard to do. Tell 
her she was ugly, or call her a dumb- 
bell, that would get her. She couldn't 
run to the principal about it every 
day. The prinicpal might begin to 
think she was a bad teacher. It was 
the same in the wood shop. He had 
sworn at Mr. Bish. Mr. Bish had 
sworn at him, and told him to go 
to the office. He had told Bish to "go 
to," then left. He had slammed the 
door only to hear a crash. Bish had 
thrown a hammer at him and it had 
broken the glass on the door. Bish 
hadn't had him expelled, and the 
glass in the door was still cracked. 
(Continued on Page 15) 

Page Fourteen 


November 22, 1939 


... by Betty Eastitccd '4C 

The valley of the Susquehanna 
has long been famous for green 
fields rich with the freshness of the 
spring time, and later golden with 
the summer. Prosperity was the 
whole being of the rolling farm- 
ing region, though the word was 
little used, for where it exists there 
is no need to mention it. The farm- 
ers lived happily selling their crops 
to supply the city markets, keep- 
ing enough for their own needs in 
the long New York state winter. 
Poor they might be in comparison 
with city dwellers, but there was 
food enough and to spare, and milk- 
and-egg money for fuel and cloth- 
ing. Their other wants were few. 
Red-cheeked children ran in the 
fields and played in the hay-mows 
undisturbed all summer. The cows 
grew fat in the pasture. There was 
meat in the smoke-houses, and the 
cold-room shelves were lined with 
colored .iars, where the sun and the 
wind and the taste of wild red ber- 
ries after a rain were bottled up 
for hearty meals when the days 
would be dark and the garden cov- 
ered with snow. 

I went home to this pleasant val- 
ley in the middle of June, and re- 
joiced to see the familiar unchanging 
hills. The roses were just bursting 
into full bloom in the gardens and 
the grass was cool and green under- 
foot. I walked out into the gar- 
den and was thankful for its beau- 
ty, as I had always been. Life would 
be lazy and peaceful all summer. 
There was nothing to do but stroll 
along the country roads and swim 
in dark, deep pools. I would store 
up memories against the lonely win- 
ter time. 

"It's very dry," they told me. "It 
hasn't rained since the first of May." 

A fine dust rose between the 
grass blades as I rubbed a toe against 
the edge of the garden path. "Sounds 
like good picnic weather," I said. 

The last days of June were cold 
and dark, as if fall were on its way. 
The heavy clouds masked the sun 
from dawn to darkness, but there 
was no rain. The farmers watered 
their crops from the pasture streams 
and looked hopefully at the sky. 
The cattle browsed on green grass, 
and there was fodder in the silos 
and corn in the fields. We laughed 
in the town and planned our sum- 
mer fun, and wished it would be 
hotter so we could go swimming. 

With the first of July the sun re- 

appeared, and we went out into the 
country one day when the blue arch 
of the sky was very high, and clear 
and cloudless. We sought out a 
shady gien, where the water leapt 
sparkling in the sunlight, and rushed 
over the rocks to quiet pools among 
the pines. Here we had spent many 
happy days, and here we would go 
again. There was something wrong 
that day, something we did not both- 
er to define, something omiinous, 
blunting our sharp, gay pleasure. 
The glen was dry. No longer did 
the water leap over the rocks. It 
trickled down between them, weav- 
ing a crooked course, leaving their 
white heads muddy and parched 
above it. The laughter of the rapids 
was silent. There was scum on the 
surface of the pools. "What is 
wrong?" I asked. "Has it been that 

"Oh, it will rain soon," they re- 
plied. They weren't worried. No 
one was then, but I was disappoint- 
ed to find the glen so ugly. It was 
not what I had expected to find, 
not what I had come home to see. 
There was a vague disquiet in my 
heart and I was glad when we re- 
turned to the town. The sun had 
made the day far too hot. The heat 
seemed a weight inside my head, a 
dark, oppressive weight that ached 
dully. The picnic had not been a 

From that day I began to under- 
stand. I think now that I knew 
the moment I saw the dry rocks 
in the glen, but I kept on hopmg. 
It wasn't so bad in the town. There 
were places to go and cool drinks 
to be sipped in darkened rooms in 
the afternoon hours when the sun 
was high in the sky. Everyone said 
it would surely set in and pour for 
days soon. There would be a rainy 
season. There was nothing to worry 
about. The farmers continued to 
carry water and look for rain. 

I kept on hoping until the end 
of July, until I walked one after- 
noon in the garden. The paths were 
sere and brown. The grass crackled 
as I stepped and sent sharp, stiff 
blades against the open toes of my 
sandals. The ground was not cool 
and damp as it had always been. 
It was rough and hot, unyielding. 
The roses had faded, but they had 
not fallen from their stems. They 
had shriveled there, old and "wrink- 
led and ghostlike. 

It was not long then until I "went 

out into the fields and the hills and 
learned the lesson of wilted crops 
and dusty roads, learned to know 
the heat of the sun on hopeless eyes. 
It was a different sun from the one 
that had shone before on my home- 
land. No longer was it silvery on 
the dewy cobwebs along the fences 
in the morning, nor did it cast a 
yellow glow at noon, so that the 
world was all green and gold and 
blue with the sky and the shade of 
trees. Morning brougnt a sullen, 
red light as if a fire were burning 
in the east. Noon was white heat, 
with no breeze and the sky ugly 
and gray. It was a lead-colored 
world, and the leaves of the trees 
drooped and turned brown at the 
edges. This was the land I had 
taken for granted, the beautiful sanc- 
tuary built by nature for my pleas- 
ure, that I might know the cool rush 
of farmland brooks around my ank- 
les, and might play all day in the 
shade of rustling trees, heedless of 
the people who lived on the land, 
contented to only drink my fill of 
its beauty. I could not be heedless 

Drought is not a tangible object 
that can be fought in the open, that 
can be seen afar off and beaten 
back. It is a slow, creeping terror 
that comes on and on until it has 
devoured everything in its path. 
There is little to be done but wait, 
and the people of my valley waited. 
One morning when the farmer went 
down to the shallow brook there was 
no water. He borrowed some from 
his neighbor. The next day the 
neighbor's brook, too, was dry. The 
pasture, he discovered one day. had 
been cropped so close that there 
was no grass left, and he had to 
take silage out to the field for the 
cattle. Then came the night when 
there was just enough silage for 
the next day, and the cows cropped 
the weeds along the roadside. 

The farmer no longer looked at 
the sky. He did not speak of the 
drought; or the empty silo, where 
food for the cattle next winter had 
been stored; or the corn that with- 
ered in the field. He did not look 
at the caked brown furrows of the 
field where the second planting had 
not come up. His house was dirty 
from the sharp dust that seeped in 
the windows and doors when the 
wind blew, but there was no water 
with which to wash. His wife tried 
at first to keep the children's clothes 

November 22, 1939 


clean, but she gave that up too in 
the end. 

It was then the government tried 
to help, then that the once-loved 
valley became a catch-word printed 
in black ink on the evening papers. 
Water was shipped in in tank cars 
and distributed to the stricken peo- 
ple, but the amount was pitifully 
small. The papers carried confident 
articles from the weather bureau. 
If rain came within a week, they 
held, the second planting would be 
saved. The farmer didn't believe 
the papers very much. He did not 
think the government could help. 
Tragedy was a part of his life. Trag- 
edy and heat, in the gray-white light 
of noon and the cruel, red stars, 
and the buzzing flies that were not 
still all night. Knowing no way to 
turn, he went out into the fields 
with his wife and children and knelt 
there in the dust and prayed. News- 
papermen came and took pictures of 
them praying. It did not rain, and 
the papers published the pictures> 
calling them, "Scenes from the East- 
ern Dust Bowl." 

The name burnt into my brain, 
printing it in stark, black letters 
there. It couldn't be true, I thought. 
This was no dust bowl. This was 
my land, the "mountains" which 
were always green, always a refuge 
to which I could come home. The 
dust bowl was a foreign thing, be- 
longing to the west, to hungry and 
ragged, hopeless people whose faces 
stared from the pictures in the 
Sunday paper, but whom I had nev- 
Br known. It couldn't be the valley 
Df the Susquehanna, but it was. The 
pictures were there, mute testimony 
;hat a far-off tragedy had touched 
lome. I saw them and I knew they 
■poke the truth. I had seen corn 
lot two feet high in August, and 
;mpty barns. I had known the blank 
lespair of the man who had one day 
:o pack up his family effects and 
urn his back on the hills and the 
voods, and the lilac bush beside the 
loor, because there was nothing left. 
i/Iore than this, I had seen the mute 
ubmission in the face of the man, 
vho, also having nothing left, must 
tay because there was no place to 

The summer was dying when I 
3ft my hills, fading early, exhaust- 
d, spent. With fear in my heart 

turned away from the gray ghost 
f sun-parched earth, but not with 
espair. There will be famine, pov- 
rty and cold in the Eastern Dust 
>owl this winter. When spring 
omes there will be floods if the 
eavy snows melt too quickly from 

Page Fifteen 

the barren, wasted fields. It seems 
as if the land might never be made 
to live again. But the people who 
have loved the fertile valley arc 
hardy souls. From their communion 
with the elements they have learn- 
ed one thmg. to keep on hoping. 
The terror that eclipsed that hope 
when there was nothing but scalding 
sun and stiff brown grass has gone. 
When winter is passed the farmer 
will go out into the field to plant 
the few seeds he has been able to 
buy. He will lead a single cow to 
pasture where his herd grazed be- 
fore. His children will play bare- 
foot in the fields because there will 
not be money for shoes. He will 
not complain of his plight, nor think 
of his small earnings that have been 
swept away. True to his heart, 
which is in the shape of the pines 
against the evening sunset, and the 
feel of the plow in his hands, he 
will have begun again. 

So What? 

(Continued from Page 13) 
School was fun — never a dull mo- 
ment, always excitement. Junior 
High knew he was there. Wait till 
he got to high school, he would split 
the place wide open — if he ever got 
there. Why hurry? Junior High 
was swell. 

The future? No use worrying 
about that. If he studied hard, there 
probably wouldn't be a job when he 
got through. Smarter people than he 
were out of work. He could prepare 
for being out of work by not work- 
ing. He would be farther ahead in 
the long run. Anyhow he had enough 
to think about. 

Old man Bishop was hauling him 
in before the justice of the peace. All 
because he had made fun of Bishop's 
new car. It wasn't really a new 
car. just new to Bishop. Bishop did 
not need to get so mad. All Ray had 
done was to comment on it. It did 
look like a fire engine, it was so big. 
And it did chug like a train: so 
what harm had there been in asking 
Bishop where he put the coal in? Oh 
well. Bishop would be sorry. Hal- 
loween was coming and garbage 
would look swell draped all over the 
Bishop porch. The cops might come, 
but so what? 

New Wook Slnlf 
Itiviirs U^'tnlrrs 

Last spring, the faculty Library 
committee composed n reudinc list, 
the purpose of which is "to suggest 
reading that will be pleasurable, be- 
cause it can quicken the of our cultural heritage and illu- 
mine the world we live in." 

On the shelf beside the library en- 
trance, are placed books from the 
"Reading for Enjoyment" lift. For 
each is^ue of the Arrow, students 
from the creative writing class will 
write brief reviews of books they be- 
lieve students would be interested to 
read. Why not read . . . 

One More Spring 
Ono .^Iiirt- SpriHR is the tale of 
one winter in the lives of three peo- 
ple ,a woman and two men. It is a 
winter which was overshadowed with 
hunger and cold and the dark cloud 
of depression. 

It is the story of how each found a 
new faith and how, by doing things 
to make others less miserable, each 
found his own happiness with the 
coming of the One More Spring. 
Beyond that they did not look, for 
each was content with what he had 
and asked little from the world. 

A simple yet powerful tale, it is 
very real to those who read it, for it 
so aptly portrays the period through 
which we have so recently passed — 
the Great Depression. 

Philosopher'.'- Holiday 
From the introduction in which 
Irwin Edmon apologizes for not writ- 
ing an autobiography to the last page 
— where he admits that he has writ- 
ten one — Philosopher's Holida.v is ex- 
tremely fascinating. It is not often 
that a book without an aim or plot 
can so closely hold the reader's at- 

Humorous incident, popularized 
philosophy, some original poetry, and 
best of all, bits of exquisite descrip- 
tive writing — all help to make up a 
book so interesting that each page is 
turned in eager anticipation. 


6010 Penn Avenue 

MOntrose 2144 

Page Sixteen 


November 22, 1939 

Ultinie Thule 

By Frances Mahaffey, '40 

Oh keep for me one corner of 

Unwashed from cobwebbed Hope, 

Joy's fount, 
Which long since dried up at its 

source for want 
Of those small tears that were its 

And Joy's presaging. Give me years 
Beyond the bloodless, dried up 

socket few; 
I want no fears that, doddering, 

clutch the hems 
Of other lives outlasting mine 
In the long sweep of time. 
I am not greedy for their merriment 
That time I spent, and I am wearied 

at the scene 
I saw before. My place is taken — I 

The briny tears that turn to statues 

looking by. 
Give me a corner of Eternity; 
The pale's beyond the sunset 

Where I'll die! 



SChenley 9811 5610 Wilkins Ave. 


25c To 12:30 P. M. 


Starting Fri., Nov. 24 









— with — 




By Marden Armstrong, '42 
The fat white 

From the morning 

Is like a swift 
Chain of pillows 
Thrown by a little 
Brown-eyed boy 
At his 

Pooey to Charm 

By Frances Mahaffey, '40 

My mouth is full of bitterness, 
My stomach's full of acid. 

My heart is acrid with despair 
How can my face be placid? 



Fresh Candies, Soda and Ice Cream 


Fifth and Wilkins Avenues 
Pittsburgh, Pa. 

Telephone MAyflower 0145 




MOntrose 7777 

HAzel 1012 









D. C. 


















These reduced long distance rates are in effect 
every night after 7 and all day Sunday. Take ad- 
vantage of them to get in touch v/ith the folks back 
home and v/ith out-of-town friends. 


Vol. XIX 

Pennsylvania College for Women, Pittsburgh. Pa.. December 20, 1939 

No. 3 


Page Two 


December 20, 1939 


Pennsylvania College for Women 
Pittsburgh, Pa. 

Subscription $1.00 per year in advance 

1939 Mtmbcr 1940 

F^ssocioted Colle6icrfe Press 


National Advertising Service, Inc. 

College Publishers Representative 
A2.0 Madison Ave. New York. N. Y. 

Chicago • Boston • Los Angeles • San Fharciscg 

Editorial Staff 

Co-Editors Betty Eastwood, "40 

Rachel Kirk. '40 

Business Manager Ruth File. '40 

News Editor Nancy Over, '40 

Assistant News Editor Dorothy Evans, '42 

Feature Editor Jo Anne Healey, '41 

Literary Editors Schreyer, '40 

Jean Miller, '42 

Copy Editor Claire Stewart. '42 

Make-up Editor Katherine Rutter, '40 

Staff Photographer (\Ttherire Thomp on. '40 

Proof Readers Jean Hammer. '41 

Louise Haldeman, '43 
Claire Horwitz. '43 

Copy Readers Rose Marie Fillippelli, '43 

Marjorie Noonan. '43 
Faculty Advisor liazel C. ohupp 

News Staff 

Jane Evans. Dorothy Marshall, Lucille Cummings, Jean Sweet, Dotty 
Oliver, Marion Rowell, Helen Waugh. Margaret Anderson, Mary Ann 
Macky, Betty Ann Morrow, Marian Lambie. 

Feature Staff 

Helen Schellkopf, Mildred Stewart, Jean Burchinal, Margery Heth, 
Althea Lowe, Betty Brown, Mary Louise Henry, Jeanne Anne Ayres, 
Mary Alice Spellmire, Mary Evelyn Ducey, Janet Ross, Betty 

Business Staff 

Betty Bacon. Alison Croft, Peggy Dietz, Jane Fitzpatrick. Eleanor 
Garrett. Virginia Gillespie, Marjorie Higgins, Beth Howard, Jane 
McCall, Mary Jane McCormick, Nancy Scott, Gloria Silverstein, Mary 
Singer, Bizzy Ward, Lois Wirth. 

jottings in the margin 

Things we never knew 'til now . . . The Arrow is 
going on nineteen ... in 1933, PCW had exactly the 
same terminal dates for Christmas vacation that it has 
this year . . . War department . . . what a medieval- 
sounding word "enemy" is . . . with the way the bat- 
tles on the northern front are going, it would seem 
that all those contributions should be for Russian, instead 
of Finnish, relief . . . Winter dusk is worth waiting the 
whole day for . . . Sight you mustn't miss . . . the 
dusting of red and white lights across the darkness be- 
yond the library . . . Churlish snarl . . . why all the 
confusion and disorder in the den? . . . Department of 
utter despair . . . exams begin just one month after 
Christmas Day . . . Note to Santa Claus ... all we 
want in our stocking is time to catch up on this fall's 
crop of books and time to SLEEP . . . And a Merry 
Christmas to you. 

Chance to Shine 

The announcement by the faculty of the inaugura- 
tion of a system of working for honors at PCW should 
not be passed over lightly by the student body. While 
the new plan of study wilF be followed by only a few 
members of each class, every student should feel a vital 
concern in the successful working out of the system. With 
the adoption of the honors system, our college takes a 
real step towards academic freedom and true scholarship. 

For far too long a time, any faint yearnings that may 
have existed at PCW for intensive creative study have 
been stifled by the closely confining lecture-notes-quiz 
method of teaching. The traditional organization of 
classes is as nearly ideal as possible, probably, for lower 
division students and for students in the upper division 
who are not especially interested in doing individual re- 
search. However, the student who would wish to pur- 
sue her own line or go deeper into a certain field than 
the somewhat broad catalogue courses permit, the lecture- 
quiz system is too demanding in itself to permit much 
independent experimentation and research. 

Beginning next year, according to the new plan, 
seniors who have proved to their professors their ability 
for honors work, may substitute for six regular academic 
hours research or experimentation in the subject in which 
they are vitally interested. It is believed that such stu- 
dents taking only nine class hours will have enough time 
to do study that is really intensive and satisfying and 
written woi'k that is keen, polished, and, perhaps, even 

The success of the honors system, and the resultant 
higher standards of scholarship for the entire college is 
in the hands of the student. Now is the time to prove 
that the thirst for knowledge has not been quenched by 
mere tastes of the Pierian spring. 

Chapel, As Usual 

If silence is golden, PCW students are indeed poverty- 
stricken if their behavior in chapel is any indication of 
their true worth. Indeed, noise has become so much a 
part of chapel, that, far from being a place for rest and 
meditation in the midst of a busy morning, it is rapidly 
becoming a half-hour of nerve-wrecking. 

It would seem that there is no apparent reason ior the 
muttering and tittering and pencil-dropping that has re- 
cently assumed epidemic proportions. None of us is so 
informed that she cannot learn something from every 
speaker. None of us is so nervous that she is unable 
to sit relatively still for thirty minutes or an hour. And 
no PCW student, it is hoped, is so impolite as to insult 
the leader or speaker by her inattention. 

The student body has been asked repeatedly by its 
president, by the administration and by the chapel com- 
mittee to observe the rules of common courtesy in chapel. 
Such pleas have fallen on deaf ears. So probably no 
amount of editorial railing will cause any of the many 
offenders to mend her manners, prick up her ears and 
discover that chapel although compulsory, is not so bad 
after all. 

December 20, 1939 

Working for Honors 
To Be Inaugnratecl 

Faculty Adopts Plan 
For Individual Study 

The faculty of Pennsylvania Col- 
lege for Women, meeting Thursday. 
December 7, adopted a plan for hon- 
ors work which has been under con- 
sideration for more than a year. By 
this plan, a certain number of each 
class will be given opportunity dur- 
ing the senior year to do intensive in- 
dividual work which will amount to 
six hours credit for each semester. 
The objective of the plan is to give to 
able students a certain amount of 
freedom from requirements of the 
curriculum and to allow them time 
and scope for somewhat intensive ex- 
poration in the field of their major 

In order to qualify for this work, a 
student must have satisfied the mem- 
bers of the faculty with whom she has 
worked during her freshman, sopho- 
more, and junior years that she is ca- 
pable of doing individual work, and 
she must also have maintained a high 
scholastic rating. 

The honors work will be generally 
administered by a Faculty Committee 
for Individual Study. The students 
who are to do individual (or honor) 
work must be recommended to the 
Committee by a majority of the fac- 
ulty members with whom they have 
previously worked. An alternative 
method has been provided whereby 
a student may apply on her own in- 
itiative to the Committee for permis- 
sion to do honors work. In the latter 
case, the Committee will obtain rec- 
ommendations from members of the 
faculty who know her work before 
such permission can be given. 

Recommendations and elections for 
honors work will be made at the end 
of the junior year, starting with the 
present junior class. Members of the 
senior class next year who have 
gained permission to do the work will 
take nine hours of class work each 
semester; the remaining six hours 
will be devoted to their individual 
projects, with a weekly conference 
with the director whom the student 
has chosen from the faculty. 

It is possible that in certain cases 
students who are qualified and per- 
mitted to work on individual projects 
may prefer not to do so, but to con- 
tinue with the usual fifteen hours of 
class work. The choice is to be the 
student's own. No discredit is to be 
attached to the girl who decides she 


Advertising Director 
Of W aruer Brotliers 
Will Speak 

Mr. Harry Goldberg, national di- 
rector of advertising and pubUcity 
lor Warner Brothers, will speak in 
Chapel, Tuesday, January 9. 

Mr. Goldberg originally joined 
Warner Brothers with the intention 
of staying witli them for just a few 
weeks in order to help them re- 
organize one of the publicity de- 
partments. However, he is now 
head of the entire theater publicity 
department and has, as part of his 
work, also aided in the produt'ion 
of several motion pictures. 

He has had a good deal of ex- 
perience in the newspaper as well as 
the theatrical field. On the old Phil- 
adelphia Press he was feature edi- 
tor, special writer, and Sunday edi- 
tor. He held the same desks on the 
Philadelphia Record. For a time, 
writing for magazines was his chief 
occupation. Many of his interviews 
with famous people have appeared in 
national magazines. 

In chapel he will give an informal 
speech, telling us something that 
hasn't been said before about motion 


January 9 — Chapel — Mr. Harry 
Goldberg — Moving- Pictures. 

January 15 — Mr. George E. Evans, 
Chairman of the Housing Author- 
ity of the City of Pittsburgh. 

January 17 — Senior dinner given 
by Alumnae. 

prefers not to do intensive individual 

The program each honors student 
is to follow will be planned with the 
faculty director she has chosen and 
submitted to the governing Commit- 
tee for approval. Programs are to be 
as broad in scope as possible, and it 
is hoped that they will cover a field of 
correlated subjects rather than a sin- 
gle subject. That is, a student who 
chooses to do individual work in his- 
tory will also make herself familiar 
with sociological, economic, literary, 
or educational movements which are 
pertinent to the historical problem 
she is studying. Or a student who is 
working in chemistry will be expect- 
ed to explore material corollary to her 
project in biology or physics. A com- 
prehensive examination over the field 
of her individual work will be given 
each honors student at the end of the 
senior year. 

Page Three 

l)a>. Dorm Stiidt'iils 
llol<i r<>i*iiial DaiH'cs 

Di'coralions W ill l\v 
Blue and Silver 

The dormitory and day .student.-; 
will hold their formal Chn.-itmas 
dances tonight in Woodland Hall and 
Dil worth Hall. 

Decorations for both dances will be 
blue and silver. At the house dinner _ 
preceding their dance, the color 
scheme will be carried out in a silver 
tree with blue lights. 

After singing Christmas carols, the 
dormitory students will follow their 
cusuim of exchanf!ing gifts. Each 
girl will give a present to one of her 
fellow students whose name she has 
chosen in a drawing ^eld before the 

Ftr the dinner dance, Shirley Clip- 
son is chairman of the decorations 
committee which consists of Marjorie 
Binford, Katherine Morse, Jean Bur- 
chinal. Jane Brooks, and Mary 
Schweppe. Ruth Mengel is in charge 
of the place cards and seating ar- 
rangements, and Julia Wheldon. Nina 
Malty, and Beth Howard are on this 
committee. The gift committee con- 
sists of Jane Shidemantle, Betty Ann 
Morrow. Mildred Stewart, and Mary 
Jane Fisher. The House board is act- 
ing as a committee for the dance at 
which Ches Walters and his orchestra 
will furnish the music. 

The day students, having success- 
fully petitioned the administration, 
will hold their Hrst Christmas dance 
tonight. Peggy Matheny is the chair- 
man of the dance, assisted by Jean 
Gate, Helen Hecht. Mary Balmer, and 
Mary Ann Bell. Len Malvern's or- 
chestra will play for the dancers in 
Dilv.-orth Hall. 

Students Dress Dolls 
For Christmas Charity 

Much a-.tivity and interest has 
been shown on campus for the past 
month in the dressing of dolls for 
Christmas charity. 

The work was done in cooperation 
with YWCA and the entire student 
body. Distribution and collection 
was for the Free Public Kindergarten 
Society and was under the super- 
vision of the Freshman Commission, 
headed by Brice Black, chairman 
and Ellen' Copeland, sophomore ad- 
visor. . 

The dolls were put on exhibition 
Monday. December 18, and prizes 
were awarded for the best handi- 

Page Four 


December 20, 1939 

A special Christmas program was 
presented today at tlie last Chapel 
meeting of the student body to be 
held until after the holidays. Rev- 
erend Bernard C. Clausen of the First 
Baptist Church was the principal 
speaker who chose as his subject, 
God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen. 

The remainder of the performance 
was given by members of the music 
theory class. The chorus sang four 
songs, A Carol, Jubilate, The Bells, 
and Bethlehem's King: which were 
composed by Marjorie Norris, Mont- 
nana Menard, Frances Mahaffey, and 
Betty Gahagen respectively. The 
Bells was sung to organ accompani- 
ment. Eileen Wessel sang the descant 
to Bethlehem's King. A vocal trio, 
Jane Hanauer, Gladys Cooper, and 
Mary Elizabeth Rope presented 
response to the Prayer which was 
composed by Gladys Cooper. 

"UnionNoiv^'' Author Clausen Addresses 
Explains Theory Christinas Chapel 

Clarence K. Streit, author of Union 
Now, advocated a Federal Union 
composed of the 15 democracies of 
the world to insure universal peace, 
when he spoke to the student body in 
chapel, Friday, December 1. "Our 
greatest concern, in modern times, 
he said, is now to arrive at and main- 
tain peace and freedom." There 
could be no war against this power- 
ful union which would have from 60 
to 95 per cent of almost every es- 
sential war material. No nation or 
possible group of nations would dare 
to attack it, once its defense forces 
were united, Mr. Streit believes. 

It is necessary to appeal to the 
citizens of the democracies for their 
aid in bringing about world-wide 
peace because nations have proved 
themselves incapable of letting down 
their barriers and objectively dis- 
cussing the problem, he said. When 
polls show that the citizens of the 
democracies (the United States, Can- 
ada, The United Kingdom of Eng- 
land, Scotland, and Wales, France, 
Ireland, Switzerland, Belgium, the 
Netherlands, Norway, Sweden, Den- 
mark, Finland, Australia, New Zea- 
land, and the Union of South Africa) 
wiU agree to support the new Union, 
according to Mr. Streit, a constitu- 
tional Convention will be called to 
draft a strong but elastic Constitution 
. . . the most freedom-creating po- 
litical system that man has ever in- 
vented. "When the agreed-upon 
number of countries have ratified it, 
the New Union will be established, 
ready to prevent war, bring pros- 
perity, and maintain our liberties." 

There would be many benefits re- 
sulting from this proposed Federal 
Union. Mr. Streit said that every- 
one in the world would be benefited 
through it, even the nations outside 
it. Dictatorship of every kind and 
the many forms of intolerance that 
thrive on depression would cease to 
threaten our liberties. 

The Union would be open to all 
countries as they restore or develop 
democratic rights, as the plan now 
stands. Membership would be so 
advantageous that all nations would 
want to belong. It would stop dicta- 
tors by offei-ing to their adherents a 
government infinitely better than 
their former regime. 

Streit showed that the 15 founder- 
democracies are those which can 
most quickly and efficaciously unite 
to bring the Union about. Most of 

Verse Choir Performs 

The Verse Speaking Choir gave a 
concert to the South Hills College 
Club, December 13, and presented 
the same program to the Wheaton 
Alumnae at their meeting in the 
College Club, December 18. They 
recited The Women at the Well, 
several Christmas carols, and a few 
humorous selections. 

Their next program will be given 
at the Twentieth Century Club, 

these people can read either English 
or French, or both. None has been 
at war with the others for over a 
hundred years. They do 70 per cent 
of their present trade with each 
other and they have the same basic 
ideas of individual freedom and rep- 
resentative government. 

The proposal was first set forth 
in a recent book called Union Now. 
written by Clarance Streit, World 
War veteran and a newspaper cor- 
respondent for 19 years, covering the 
League of Nations at Geneva for the 
New York Times during the last ten 
years. There he had his first ex- 
perience with the inefficiency of the 
leagues and of other arbitrary solu- 
tions to world peace. From his thor- 
ough knowledge of both Europe and 
America, he has evolved this con- 
crete down-to-earth plan for found- 
ing an American-type union on a 
large scale that the world needs 

PCW Will Publish 
New View Book 
Of Campus Scenes 

A new PCW View Book will be 
published this year. The theme of it 
is "a college life and campus, as sim- 
ple and free as a college in the coun- 
try, yet having the advantages of a 
city close at hand." 

The book will contain many pic- 
tures of the college and pictures 
which will show the cultural and ed- 
ucational advantages of its location in 
Pittsburgh. There will be a picture 
of the art class taken with a well- 
known artist whose painting is .shown 
in the Carnegie Art Gallery; PCW 
students broadcasting over KDKA; 
the Arrow staff working in the Arrow 
oflice and at the printer's; Maurice 
Evans, the noted Shakespearian actor, 
with two members of the dramatic 
club; and the Sociology students do- 
ing social woi"k at the settlement 
houses, in addition to many pictures 
taken on campus, and in Woodland 
Hall, the Library, and the Science 

Settlement Groups Are 
Guests of YWCA 

The YWCA held a party for settle- 
ment groups on Monday, December 
18, at four o'clock in the gym. The 
children who came to this party were 
the groups from the Soho Com- 
munity House under the leadership 
of Ruth Mary Arthur and Margaret 
Dunseath and the gi-oups from 
Armstrong House under the direc- 
tion of Jane Viehman and Janet 
Ross. Approximately forty children 
attended and had a rollicking time — 
complete with gifts, games, stories 
and refreshments. 

Miss Moivry Receives 
Sandburg Volumes 

The day before Thanksgiving 
proved to be a red letter day for Miss 
Vera Mowry, Dr. Spencer's secre- 
tary. She received from Carl Sand- 
burg, w'nom she has known for the 
last three years, four volumes of 
his new Abraham Lincoln book The 
War Years. The book was not of- 
ficially published until the first of 

The New York Times highly rec- 
ommended the new volume, not only 
as the most interesting but also the 
most authentic book ever written 
about Abraham Lincoln. 

December 20, 1939 


Page Five 

Spencer and Kinder 
Are Guest Speakers 

President Herbert L. Spencer and 
Dr. James S. Kinder, head of the Ed- 
ucation Department and Director of 
the PCW Film Service, were guest 
speakers at Butler County Institute 
in Cairns City, Saturday,' December 

Dr. Kinder spol\;e in the morning 
and demonstrated the value and use 
of films and visual aids in general. 
Dr. Spencer spoke in the afternoon 
on "Halving of Citizens." 

The American Association for the 
Advancement of Science will meet 
in Columbus the last of December. 
Dr. Laura Hunter, assistant pro- 
fessor of biology, attended a number 
of the conventions in the past years, 
and is planning to attend this one. 

Many small groups, who are work- 
ing different fields of science, com- 
pose this organization. In the vari- 
ous sessions papers are read, which 
are limited to ten or fifteen minutes 
in length. Immediately after the 
speaker has finished, those assembled 
talve part in a discussion of his sub- 
ject. Each person attending the con- 
vention goes to the meetings sched- 
uled for the group in which he is 
interested. Dr. Hunter plans to de- 
vote much of her time to the meet- 
ings on zoology. For the persons 
who miss these gatherings, ab- 
stracts of the proceedings are pub- 

Occasionally, there will be sym- 
posiums where two groups will meet 
in joint sessions, and merge mutual 
interests. One afternoon will be de- 
voted to displays under microscopes. 
A highlight of the convention will be 
the Biology Smoker, an informal af- 
fair, where all those who are work- 
ing in this field may meet and dis- 
cuss their accomplishments. 

College Organist 
Gives Recitals 

Mr. Earl B. Collins, organist and 
instructor at PCW and director of 
music at Bellefield Presbyterian 
Church, was chosen to give the or- 
gan recitals at Carnegie Music Hall 
Saturday evening, December 2 and 
Sunday afternoon, December 3. 
Among his selections were several 
Christmas numbers and the Carillon 
Suite by Alfred Johnson, Pittsburgh 
composer and organist for the 
Sewickley Presbyterian Church. 

Regional Secretary 
Of Student Movement 
Holds Interviews 

Mrs. Louise Pfuetze, Regional Sec- 
retary of the Student Christian Move- 
ment in the Middle .'\llanlic States, 
visited PCW Monday, December 11. 
Until last June she was Dean of Wo- 
men at Whittier College and she came 
to this district last September. Mrs. 
Pfuetze is very much interested in 
Christian organizations in the col- 
leges. During her recent stay in 
Pittsburgh she visited the YWCA or- 
ganizations in the University of Pitts- 
burgh, Carnegie Tech, and PCW. 

The morning of her visit to PCW 
she interviewed all the members of 
the YWCA Cabinet and Advisory 
Board. The girls discussed their 
problems and plans with her and she 
gave them many helpful suggestions 
and new ideas. She also told them 
how to make their work more in- 
teresting and their activities more 

In the afternoon Miss Marks gave 
a tea in her honor in Berry Hall 
Drawing Room. The members of the 
YW Advisory Board, Cabinet, and the 
Freshman Commission attended. Mrs. 
Spencer poured and members of tlie 
Commission served. 

Molianiniedanisni Will Be 
Topic For Discussion 

Mohammedanism will be the topic 
of the discussion at the YWCA meet- 
ing January 10 at 3:3n. The speaker. 
Dr. R. F. Shields, is an autliority on 
Eastern rehgions, having spent much 
time in the Sudan and Ethiopia. He 
is a graduate of Tarkio College and 
the Pittsburgh Theological Seminary 
and received his D.D. degree from 
Tarkio College. At present he is Sec- 
retary-Treasurer of the Missions in 
the Sudan and is in the United States 
on furlough. His work is evangelistic 
and educational. His book. Behind 
the Garden of Allah, gives an excel- 
lent picture of life in Egypt. 

A discussion will follow Dr. Shields' 
talk. Topics will include the spread 
of Mohammedanism: the life of Mo- 
hammed; modern Mohammedanism; 
the influence of Judaism, Christianity, 
and the ancient near-East religions 
on Mohammedanism. Dr. Shields will 
join in the discussion and answer 

Frances Mahaffey, '40, is chairman 
of the meeting. 

Traditional Carolling 
I sliers in \alrtidv 

As the sayins noes, tlic cars or 
man fust heard a Christmas Carol 
when the angels sang over Bethle- 
hem. But there was no such thing 
as ;j carol on earth until twelve 
hundred years later when St. Fran- 
cis of Assisi in Italy decided that 
people weren't understanding the 
true beauty of the scene in the 
manger. So ho set up tlie first creche 
and had monks sing the first carol. 
Ever since then people have been 
singhig carols and have come to 
tliink of Christmas as not being 
Christmas without them. When we 
sing them it puts us in touch with all 
the otiier Christmases wo have ever 
had before and all the people we 
have ever loved at Christmas. Maybe 
we don't believe in Santa Claus any- 
more, but when we sing a carol we 
can't help remembering the way we 
felt when we did believe. 

So that's one reason why PCW al- 
ways sings carols about this time 
of the year. For a long time we had 
only sung them in our chapel and 
in our vespers and in our parties or 
pageants. Then, just four years ago, 
we discovered how much nicer it is 
to sing them to somebody else. In 
1936 Miss Held suggested that the 
Glee Club and the dorm girls go out 
along Woodland Road carolling. All 
the Woodland roaders were delight- 
ed. The Mellons lighted a candle of 
welcome in their window, according 
to the old custom, and one home 
opened all its doors so that the music 
could drift up to an invalid. Then, 
last of all, everybody stopped before 
Dr. Spencer's house and sang to the 

It's beginning to look now as if we 
had begun another tradition. Be- 
cause every year since — barring im- 
possible weather— both dorm and day 
students have gone out carolling. We 
gather together and go out — into 
the snow sometimes — and sing un- 
der lantern light. People come to 
the windows to listen and some set 
up candles. But the greatest thrill of 
all comes to us who are doing the 
caroling who stand out in the dark- 
ness and the crisp night air singing 
about another night and another peo- 
ple who stood in the darkness. It 
is very easy then to believe, as we 
did when we were children, in the 
angels and the star and the wise men 
and tiny child in the manger at 

Page Six 


December 20, 1939 

America's Heritage 
From the Indian 
Told in Chapel 

In her lecture on Wednesday, De- 
cember 6, Ataloa, interpreter of In- 
dian culture, spoke to the student 
body on America's heritage from 
the Indian. With sincerity and sim- 
plicity, she explained the sig- 
nificance of the culture of the Amer- 
ican Indian, and the part it has play- 
ed in the development of our coun- 

She stated that the music, art, and 
religion of the Red Man are sym- 
bolic, and by bringing out the finer 
points in these phases of his life, 
she succeeded in showing the deep, 
aesthetic, and spiritual beauty of In- 
dian culture. 

She also expressed the hope that 
the White Man would visit the In- 
dian, not as a prying tourist, but 
rather as an understanding, ap- 
preciative friend. 

Ataloa, a member of the Chick- 
asaw tribe, was born in Old Indian 
Territory, Oklahoma. Her grand- 
mother named her Ataloa, which 
means "Little Song." The name was 
almost prophetic, for she possesses 
a beautifully rich contralto voice, re- 
vealed when she closed her lecture 
by singing an old Indian lullaby, and 
a quaint little song about Indian 

Ataloa's early education was in 
private and public schools, and the 
Oklahoma College for Women. Later 
she received her A. B. degree from 
the University of Redlands, Cali- 
fornia, and her M. A. degree from 
Columbia University, New York. Un- 
der a scholarship from International 
Institute, and a fellowship from the 
Rockefeller Foundation, she con- 
tinued research in comparative ed- 
ucation. Indian culture, and art. 

She feels that true interpretation, 
and adequate training for leadership 
are the primary needs of the Indian 
today. The first she has sought to 
accomplish through her lectures and 
concerts, and the second through aid- 
ing worthy young Indians to receive 
an education. 

Recollections in Tranquility 

Our Monthly Reminder — 

Patronize Your Music Store 


Hacke Building 
207 Fifth Ave. Pittsburgh, Pa. 

By Nancy 

As I walked up an uneven stone 
pathway to an old, old house the 
bright sun made me feel peaceful and 
happy. A cool, fall wind whipped 
brown leaves from the trees and flung 
them mercilessly to the ground. 

The path led to a red brick, grey- 
shuttered house that had been stand- 
ing at the end of the path for 110 
years. As I knocked on the door, I 
could see in my mind's eye two old- 
fashioned hoop-skirted ladies, knit- 
ting and gossiping on the porch. A 
black cat slyly pushed a ball of yel- 
low yarn along the porch. 

Miss Agnes Way is a member of 
one of Sewickley's oldest families and 
although she will be 98 in March she 
is as quick-witted and gay as she 
was when she was 20. She is one of 
the few persons, regardless of age, 
who will always be young, alive, 
and filled with the "joie de vivre." 
Her formula is the "keep in touch 
with young people and women's 
clubs." Miss Way prefers the society 
of younger people because older wo- 
men bore her with stories of their 
husbands or new recipes. 

She has always been interested in 
art and was a member of the first 
class of the Pittsburgh Academy of 
Design. She exhibited in the first 
Carnegie International in 1897 and 
she was the first art teacher in a 
Pittsburgh public school where she 
earned money to pay for her expenses 
when she later studied in Paris under 
Boulanger. She laughingly told me 
that she had been chosen to be the 
art teacher because the principal 

Jean Wat8on Debates 
With Davis of W. & J. 

Jean Watson, '40, member of the 
PCW debate team, debated with Clif- 
ford A. Davis of Washington and Jef- 
ferson College, Washington, Pa., on 
Station KQV, Pittsburgh, on Sat- 
urday evening, December 9. 

The two person, non-decision de- 
bate was on the question. Resolved: 
Franklin D. Roosevelt should be 
elected for a third term. 

This was one of a series of de- 
bates given over the radio by W & J 
with representatives of other colleges 
in the vicinity as guests. The time 
is Saturday at 9:30 P. M., and they 
are on for 15 minutes. 

Tentative plans for a future de- 
bate between W & J and PCW on 
this campus are made for February. 

Miss Watson was coached by Miss 
Robb, speech instructor. 

Over, '40 

thought that she wouldn't flirt with 
the boy students. 

She studied under a strict master in 
Paris. Classes lasted from 8 to 12 
and from 12:30 to 5 o'clock and dur- 
ing this time the students were not 
allowed to talk to each other. She 
was in the class for three months be- 
fore she found out that there was an- 
other girl in the same class who 
could also speak English! 

In Paris Miss Way met Rosa Bon- 
heur and Thiers, the flrst President 
of the French Republic. After the 
Franco-Prussian war, a benefit was 
sponsored for the children of the sol- 
diers. She gave an American dollar 
bill to the relief fund and was called 
to Thiers to receive his and his na- 
tion's thanks! 

Miss Way was a member of the 
faculty of the Pennsylvania College 
for Women for ten years when she 
returned from Paris. She taught art 
and wood carving during the first 
years of college. She remembered 
many funny and interesting experi- 
ences that she had at PCW. She was 
talking one day to the German Pro- 
fessor, when the president of the 
school came up and told her that she 
wasn't paid to talk to the men teach- 
ers. The teacher replied that Miss 
Way wasn't paid for a lot of things 
that she did for the school. Another 
time one of the trustees came to din- 
ner one night, and his words of grace 
were: "We thank thee, dear Lord, 
for these few crumbs that are set 
before us." 

Miss Way's philosophy is that of 
her mother. It is simply this: never 
be ashamed to do an honest and a 
true deed. She says, having attained 
Ihe age of 97 years, she has always 
done that. 

In a lavender blouse and skirt and 
lace cap, with eye twinkling under 
an eyebrowless forehead. Miss Way 
looks as picturesque as Whistler's 
mother. She reminded me of a pack- 
age marked "fragile, handle with 
care," when she placed a diminutive, 
wrinkled hand in mine as I said 



Fresh Candies, Soda and Ice Cream 


Fifth and Wilkins Avenues 
Pittsburgh, Pa. 

Telephone MAyfiower 0145 

December 20, 1939 


Page Seven 


By Healey and Higgins 


By Betty Eastwood 

Christmas comes but once a year, and five days hence 
it will be here. The season now is bright and gay, and 
everyone awaits The Day . . . except us, and we haven't 
done our Christmas shopping yet. But we did see Santa 
Claus. and he gave us some inside dope on what the 
lassies have requested to be in their Christmas stockings. 
Requests are as follows: 

Beth Howard — a recording of My Bill (life sized). 
Alice Chattaway — a recording of Oh Johnnyl (life 

Virginia Lappe — a recording of Boola Boola. 
Jean Burry and Jane Hanauer — a recording of There's 
Something About a Soldier. (You've been a good girl 
Janie. and we hear Santa will grant your request!) 

Alice Provost — a recording of Anchors Aweigh. (She 
has the anchor.) 

Wease Mclntyre — a recording of Dangerous Dan Mc- 

Some of the girls got their Christmas gifts early, i. e., 
Pat Lowry, who got a husband, and Connie Shane, who 
got a diamond ring (with a man attached). 

Among the gayer events of the Christmas Holidays is 
the Southern Club Ball. Among those who will be 
present, whether aiding or merely decorating will be 
Sonnie Croft, Anna Betty Saylor, Jean Arthur, Dottie Lou 
Evans, Midge Norris, Elaine Fitzwilson, Alice McKain, 
and Alice Steinmark ... all genuine (allegedly) South- 
ern Belles, suh, From South ob de Border. Yeah Man! 
Speaking of Men (and aren't we always?), Katie lams' 
Billy is flying home from the U. of Penn. He did likewise 
at Thanksgiving. Such devotion ... or could it be ihe 
stewardesses? And Ginnie Gillespie's Summer Romance 
will catch up with her some time during vacation. To 
continue, there are Janie Campbell's Men, all of whom 
possess at least six cars. Never a dull moment! And 
then there's the Man that Mary Kinter is leading a merry 
chase. And the Man with whom Natalie Lambing re- 
cently celebrated almost a half-year anniversary. And 
now we go from the sublime to the ridiculous, and have 
the Funny Feature of the Month. It was Barbara 
Maerker grabbing a train to get out of the city, and an 
admirer traveling here as fast as possible, and never the 
twain did meet. 
Add Jewelry. 
■ Or rather subtract. Three pins were lost recently, 
all of them by accident. Among the losers were Peg 
Christy and Pat Brennan. Which reminds us— wonder 
where that Jivin' Jewelry of Wease Caldwell's is these 
days? We haven't seen it lately. 

Well, the time has come for us to go and listen to "I 
Love a Mystery," so we will close in time to hear our 
daily thrills (chills, kills, etc.) Don't forget to listen 
to Fred Waring, for some of the lassies wrote and asked 
him to write a PCW school song, and who knows? 
Merry Christmas . . . Happy New Year, and we'll be 
hearin' vou. 

Adeste Fideles 

Merry Christmas, to all people, in all lunds. We have 
heard so much of gloominess lately, that we have been 
tempted to ask. "What's merry about Christmas this 
year?" But, there is still a wonderful message in the 
holiday that we will celebrate on December twenty-fifth. 
The Christmas story is a story of the coming of a man of 
insight, strength and faith into a world of iron. It is 
more fitting now than it has been for many years. The 
world of today is very like the world that knew the first 
Christmas day. Think of the Roman eagles, and 'if the 
absolute rule of the Caesars. Militarism. Dictatorship. 
The minds of men were confu>ed, philosophies of escape 
gained countless adherents. Stoicism, Epicureanism, 
Skepticism, to these men turned, trying to avoid the issue 
of reality which was harsh and cruel. Christmas marked 
the beginning of a new era. From the faith of one man, 
born in poverty in a country town in the provinces came 
a strength that was to change the world. We should re- 
member that this Christmas, and in that memory recog- 
nize the hope that faith ha\ing risen in an age very like 
our own, can rise again. There is hope of peace again in 
our time if we will stand firmly in the faith that it can 
be. This Christmas, in all lands, that hope will be a 
bright light in the darkness. A baby was born in Judea 
many years ago. Faith will be reborn in our world today. 
More than ever now, needing that re-birth most horribly, 
we must do our part by saying "Men-y Christmas." 

Don't Look Now 

When Russia attacked Finland an awful lot of people 
began to wonder just whose war this is anyhow. They 
are still wondering. We have been so preoccupied with 
the children scrapping in the front yard that we didn't 
notice the thief at the back door. He is in now, and the 
children may have to stop fighting to run for the police. 
In this war anything can happen, and it does. 

This Cockeyed World 

Science is a wonderful thing. It has found out why 
most people are slightly crazy. It seems the cells of all 
living matter are unbalanced. Cells, as everybody knows, 
are made up of molecules, which are made up of atoms. 
The atoms group themselves together in unsymmetrical 
groups. Science finds two kinds of groups which differ 
"much as the right hand differs from the left" and which 
never get together on anything. Here lies the key to 
man's "screwy-ness." They eat plants made up of lop- 
sided cells. These cells get assimilated, through the 
chemicals Ihey contain, into lopsided cells in the body. 
A man walks down the street, functioning very well on 
set of cells number one. Suddenly he stops, looks be- 
wildered, and, turning abruptly, starts off in the direc- 
tion from which he came. No. he didn't forget anything. 
It's just set of cells number two starting to work. From 
now on we can do anything at all armed with a magni- 
ficent defense. "Can't help it. It's my atoms." 

Page Eight 


December 20, 1939 


By Betty Crawford 

Christmas . . . the holiday spirit . . . mad rushing 
from parties to theaters, from teas to dinner and from 
dinner to dances. The air is tingling with excitement 
. . . it's everywhere! It is a time of meetings, gather- 
ings . . . people are enthusiastically friendly; more anx- 
ious than ever to do things together . . . to go places 
. . . they're on the move every second, wanting some- 
thing different and exciting every minute. Everyone is 
ready to play! 

Garbo laughs . . . and so will you, when you see 
Ernest Lubistch's Ninotchka. Recommended as the best 
in sophisticated entertainment. The supporting stars are 
Melvyn Douglas and Ina Claire. Sensational . . . and 
just the thing to take your mind off Christmas shopping 
and the many things you simply must do tomorrow. 

For something new and utterly different go over to 
the Buhl Planetarium. There you can star gaze with 
perfect ease and discover that there is much more in the 
sky than just the "heavenly moon." Star of Bethlehem 
is shown at three, eight and nine o'clock. 

Opening Christmas night and continuing through 
January 2 at Duquesne Gai-den is the Ice Follies of 1940. 
This promises to be an extraordinary entertainment, and 
the only appearance in Pittsburgh this year. So if you're 
bored or weary vidth the usual "things to do at night" 
see this grand winter sport of ice skating at its best. 

Don't forget the Princeton Triangle Show which will 
be at the Nixon Thursday, December 21, the night our 
Christmas vacation begins. Incidentally, Noel Coward's 
Private Lives opens at the Pittsburgh Playhouse Decem- 
ber 26, continuing through .January 13. 

Well, happy vacation, a very Merry Christmas . . . 
and lots of good times! 

Hint For the Hurried 

Althea Lowe, '43 

Are you trying to decide in this last minute frenzy 
just what you're giving to her? If so, this is just the 
column for you to read. We've surveyed the city's shops 
and stores and here are a few of the things we think 
she'll love. 

If you're planning to spend around a "dollar," don't 
overlook those Lucien Lelong lipstick kits — a suede case 
and three shades: Dianthus, Robin Hood Red, and Cor- 
sair. They really satisfy for there's a shade for any 
occasion! Then there are lovely wide belts of blue and 
red hemp with flowers embroidered upon them and a 
cluster of bells acting as a buckle. 

If she adores those "novel little jobs" . . . there's 
the merry-go-round with three small bottles of perfume 
upon it and a striped canopy over and above, or the bar 
equipped with a railing and any brand (of perfume) she 
might prefer. A pink flower cart, with a white flower. 

Don't look now but winter is here. Surprised, huh? 
Well, even if the snow isn't lying quite six feet deep and 
the wind howling down our chimneys, PCW has begun 
her winter indoor sports program. To quote that popular 
pupil of good old Socrates' question game, Prof. Quizzical 
I. Q. Whaddayanoaboutpgh . . . and we quote, "What 
is happening in PCW's gym when members of feminine 
sex wave abbreviated snowshoes at a feathery little ani- 
mule, species shuttulus coccus?" Look for the answer 
to this question of the century in the next issue of the 
Arrow (plug) when we shall unveil the winner. 

Charie Wolf, outstanding Junior athlete, has been 
elected Vice-President for next year of the A. F. C. W. 
Incidentally, that means Athletic Federation of College 
Women, an organization where different colleges exchange 
ideas on how to organize and conduct their Athletic As- 
sociations. The Vice-Presidency was held this year by 
Ruth Mary Arthur, President of our A. A. 

Blue, green, purple, yellow, red . . . no, not 3 rain- 
bow . . . these are the volleyball color teams. So you 
think volleyball is boring, eh! How would you like to 
play in a game that ended in a tie, 46-46, or one that no 
one knows the outcome of until Miss Errett finally an- 
nounces. Yellow, 53 — Blue, 54?" These are just typical 
examples of the caliber of our games this year. Now 
aren't you sorry you didn't come out? Let's see you at 
basketball practice, which will begin immediately after 
Christmas vacation. As is the custom the color games 
will be held first — this is YOUR chance really to learn 
basketball — then on with the real thing. The inter-class 
games are always welcomed with a spirit of friendly com- 
petition, but don't be fooled by the word friendly. These 
are matches of skill, spirit, and the will to win. (Note 
from our diet expert: this is an excellent way to get rid 
of those extra pounds acquired at Christmas tables.) 

and pink sachet looks and smells pretty and is not out 
of reach. 

If she's a luxury lover she'd appreciate dainty bed 
socks and pastel sheets with her monogram. And have 
you heard about those bed smokers? There's an ash tray 
and an attachment to hold the cigarette, to which a rub- 
ber tube about three feet long is fastened. She can lie 
in bed and puff to her heart's content and if perchance 
she drifts into dreamland, her monogrammed sheets 
won't be ablaze. 

For those who wish to spend upwards of five little 
dollars, the selection is even more varied. If she pos- 
sesses a bunny fur evening jacket, she'd make fine.'ase of 
bunny fur mitten (they keep hands warm on datres). or if 
her evening wrap is velvet, give her velvet ones trimmed 
with sequins, of fur. Miniature recording machines which 
play 12-inch recordings would be welcomed by any girl 
and they'll occupy a prominent place in her room. 

December 20, 1939 


Page Nine 

My Pal Scroow 

Scrooge was not such a villainous 
old fellow, after all, when he snort- 
ed, "Bah! Humbug!" to the assorted 
caroUers and nephews who wished 
him a Merry Christmas. Even in 
the relatively uncomplicated days of 
Dickens, it would seem, Christmas 
was not all the Peace-on-earth-good- 
will-toward-men thing it was crack- 
ed up to be, and Scrooge, who was 
nobody's fool, recognized it. And 
although he was scared into becom- 
ing the mistletoe and holly sort, be- 
fore the phoney spirits sneaked up 
on him, Scrooge was as honest and 
stout-hearted a man as you would 
meet in all the sets of Diclvens from 
here to London. 

No matter how you may feel con- 
cerning Scrooge's treatment of his 
clerk and his nephew (whom I. for 
one, have always considered some- 
thing of a good-for-nothing), you 
will be forced to admit that he saw 
the Yule racket without its usual 
gloss of lighted candles and Christ- 
inas tree angels. To Scrooge, in his 
early and practical incarnation, the 
last week of the year was just a 
time of increased spending, over- 
eating and interruption of business. 
The old boy had something there. 

Christmas, Scrooge said, was a 
humbug. Those were the simple, 
earth years of Victoria, when peo- 
ple made their own entertainment, 
when preparations for Christmas 
were largely culinary and the ex- 
change of presents was practically 
unknown. Holiday merriment cen- 
tered around the festive boai'd, the 
punch bowl and the mistletoe. De- 
cember 25 was one day out of the 
year when everyone was happy and 
sentimental. It was one day when 
people went to church in the morn- 
ing, fed on plum pudding and mince 
pies all afternoon, and danced and 
sang all evening. That was about all 
there was to Christmas, that and a 
general feeling of benevolence to- 
wards the beggars who were allow- 
ed to starve after the 26th. Christ- 
mas then was, to the jaded eyes of 
the twentieth-century, a day of genu- 
ine jollity and good-will. But 
Scrooge, the hard-headed business- 
man, called it humbug. 

One shudders when one imagines 
the epithets he would have applied 
to the kind of Christmas now de- 
scending upon us. Christmas be- 
gins the Satui-day after Thanksgiving 
when the stores sprout blue fir trees. 

golden holly, and Santa Clauses 
with synthetic beards. There is a 
huge parade, and a lot of children 
get lost and a lot ol mothers wish 
they would stay lost until the day 
after the stockings are supposed to 
be filled. Evei-y charity in town, 
working on the theory that the 
divine in human nature is nearer 
the surface during December than 
during any of the other eleven 
months, puts on a drive to get funds 
for the long, cruel year to come, and 
all the Women's Clubs make up 
baskets for the poor and deliver 
them in a veritable aura of self- 
righteousness. That person is rare 
who is not losing the remaining 
shreds of his religion trying to com- 
plete his Christmas shopping be- 
tween rehearsals for pageants, plays, 
and cantatas. Family life is at a 
standstill while Mother stands guard 
over the hidden presents, mails all 
the packages and cards, cleans the 
wallpaper, washes the windows and 
woodwork, takes down the dirty 
curtains, and tries her grandmother's 
recipe tor fruit-cake. Choosing and 
trimming the Christmas tree is a 
long and arduous process in which 
every member of the household en- 
gages and with which no one is 
satisfied. So Christmas morning 
dawns bright and clear on a world 
that lies limp and exhausted. 

But this same Christmas morning 
is only the beginning of things. 
Christmas is no longer a holiday: it 
is holidays. From the 24th to the 
day after New Year's, not a creature 
is worth anything, not even a mouse. 
Life for a week is nothing but look- 
ing at other persons' presents, WTit- 
ing thank-you notes for your own. 
helping finish up turkeys and boxes 
of candy and ruining your last pair 
of evening stockings and no one 
thought to give you any for Christ- 
mas. It is getting so that the merri- 
ness of the season is measured by the 
volume of retail sales and the thick- 
ness of the shopping crowds. 

Christmas humbug, Scrooge'.' 
Move over, Ebenezer. while I write a 
letter to Santa Claus. 

VjcVVa-^c'^ -^"^ 



For Discrimina'inR Women 
JAck^on 4086 5875 Forbes Street 


Ethan Frome 

In a hundred and ninety-five piigcs 
Edith Wharton presents the trafiic 
and beautifully written story of Ethan 
Frome. For a few hours worth-while 
reading this book is one of the best 
to be found. 

The background is a small New 
England town which is snowbound 
for the larger part of the year. The 
story is tragic and yet so real and 
flowing that one's chief reaction is 
pity. The reader discovers with the 
author the character of the man who 
was tied to his useless land by two 
women: his wife and the woman he 
had loved. The love Etiian Frome 
found too late and his brief hope in 
escape from his nagging wife are viv- 
idly portrayed while his later life is 
just as alive though in soberer lines. 

Plato: The Man and His Work 
Here is a \olume of Plato that will 
prove fascinating and understandable 
to anyone who has philosophical in- 
terests or curiosities. It does not re- 
quire of the reader an extensive 
background of either Greek history 
or philosophy, but offers a simple ac- 
count of the life of Plato, together 
with a careful analysis of his complete 
works from the first Socratic Dialo- 
gues to the famous "Laws" of his old 
age. Each of the works is set forth 
in the order in which it was written, 
and is explained in so clear and nat- 
ural a style, that without any previ- 
ous knowledge of Plato the argu- 
ments are easy and at the same time 
stimulating to follow. It is. as the 
author states in his preface, "just 
what Plato has to say about the prob- 
lems of thought and life, and how he 
says it." It is not "what some con- 
temporary thinks Plato should have 

The House of Floivers 
aiifl (lifts 


Phone CHurchiU 0385 



Page Ten 


December CO, 1939 


With the swift passing days the 
Christmas season is coming again, as 
it has always come. We will laugh 
and forget our work and our worry. 
We will hear the old story, which we 
have heard every year since we were 
first able to understand the words. 
But, for some of us this year will not 
be the same. Some of us have grown 
up since last year, and to us the 
Christmas story can never be quite 
the same again. We have found that 
it is not alone a pretty legend. There 
are three "Wise Men" in the story. 
do you remember? They came and 
brought gifts to the Christ Child, 
■■gold, and frankincense, and myrrh." 

When I was a very young girl I 
liked the Wise Men very much. I 
had seen them in pageants, and tliey 
wore long flowing robes, and had 
great black beards. My favorite of 
them all was Gaspard, partly because 
his was the only name I could pro- 
nounce, but mostly because we sang 
about him in Sunday school and I 
knew he was the one who brought 
gold. I had a feeling that he was 
the one Christ Child liked too, be- 
cause his gilt was the nicest. 

My fondness for this particular 
king was a thing that belonged to 
my childhood. It is gone now, and 
I can trace the way of its going. It 
is the story of a little girl who grew 

Christmas has always been the 
central day of the year for me. When 
I was very young it meant Santa 
Claus and Daddy, and I was never 
quite clear as to which was which. 
Daddy hung up his stocl\ing on the 
mantle on Christmas Eve, and I 
filled it full of candy and nuts, and 
a nice long letter from "Santa 
Claus" telling how much I hoped he 
liked the things he got. On Christ- 
mas morning there was always a sec- 
ond stoclving beside the one I had 
hung the night before, a special one 
from Santa himself, all filled with 
things labeled "To Bettykins from 
Santa" in Daddy's handwriting. I 
could never quite understand how I 
could fill Daddy's stocking and he 
could fill mine, and there could still 
be a Santa Claus, but I learned the 
biggest fact about Christmas. At 
that time I must give gifts to evei-y- 

My grandmother explained the 
reason very carefully. The Wise 
Men brought the Christ Child gifts, 
and ever after people have been 

giving them because the Christ Child 
would want it so. That was easy to 
understand, and there were the 
carved wood figures of my creche to 
prove it. Gaspard, Melchior, and 
Balthazar kneeling before the man- 
ger and holding out three golden 
caskets. But the only gift I really 
cared about was the gold. That was 
like the shiny pennies in the toe 
o' my stocking. Frankincense was 
all very well, but I wasn't inspir- 
ed by the little bronze burner on 
the hall table where my grandmother 
lit little green cones that gave off 
a funny smell. If that was what it 
was like I didn't think the Christ 
Child would want it. As for the 
myrrh, who would want bitter old 
juice from bushes. I thought 
Balthazar was pretty dumb. 

A good many Christmases went 
by before I came to know that gold 
alone would have been an unwel- 
come gift to the Christ Child. I left 
the age of Santa Claus and the shiny 
pennies behind, and grew into the 
age of rare books for Daddy, and 
cellophane-wrapped jewelry cases 
beneath the Christmas tree. I learn- 
ed to do my shopping throughout 
the year so that I would have the 
loveliest things possible for each one 
of my friends. The symbolism of the 
frankincense and the myrrh became 
quite clear to me, and I had a rather 
morbid fascination for the myrrh, 
because it was so melancholy, and I 
was in the "life-is-a-great-tragedy" 
stage. But -when it came to giving 
gifts I still clung to gold. 

It was not until I was much older 
that I learned the worth of frank- 
incense. There came a Christmas 
when I went to buy a gift for the 
man I loved. It must be beautiful, I 
thought. It must be the finest thing 
of its kind on the market. But the 
thing I sought could not be bought 
with money. I had to give him :''aith. 
I had to offer something of myself, 
companionship, courage, laughter. 
These were things beyond gold, more 
infinitely precious, which I gave that 
year. Gaspard had brought gold, 
material riches, to the Christ Child. 
Melchoir brought prayers, riches of 
the spirit, frankincense. In coming 
to understand that these were two 
.ereat gifts, either one of which alone 
was not enough, I left my child- 
hood behind. 

There is another Christmas com- 
ing now.another time of gift-giving. 

But now a new element has entered 
the story of the Wise Men. Today 
I sold boutonnieres at a Christmas 
party. There were red and green, 
and the leaves were as shiny as ivy 
after the rain. "Will you buy a 
boutonniere?" I said. "It is for the 
help of the French soldiers." 

Myrrh, the symbol of grief, was 
the gift of Balthazar to the Christ 
Child. It is the gift that I must give 
this Christmas. I have grown up 

It is a legend, this story of the 
kings who came from the Orient to 
offer their small treasures to the 
child who was born in Bethlehem. 
But the legend is true. It is not 
alone three wise men, offering strange 
gifts to a tiny baby. It is all the peo- 
ple in the world receiving the whole 
of life into their hands, the beautiful, 
the costly, and the bitter. I have sold 
boutonnieres to help the soldiers, and 
I know that if the man I love were 
among them I could do no more than 
that. I can not guard him from dan- 
ger. I can not wipe away grief from 
the hearts of those who will spend 
Christmas alone, in fear for those 
who are fighting. There are tears in 
the story of the "Wise Men," and they 
cannot be ignored. 

That is why Christmas will be a 
different thing for me this year. I 
understand now that three kings had 
to bring three gifts, and that in doing 
so they were the wisest of the wise. 
Money is meaningless without love. 
Without sadness there could be no 
contrasting joy, and no strength. Tlie 
child to which they offered these 
treasures was to grow into a com- 
plete person. He must know all 
things. I have learned why Gaspard 
and Melchoir came; now in time of 
war I. and many other young people, 
have had to face the coming of Bal- 
thazar. The Christmas story of the 
Wise Men has become our story. We 
have grown up now, and we too 
this Christmas will offer a full gift 
of gold, frankincense and myrrh. 


-The Flower Stylists In 



MOntrose 4800 
6026 Center Avenue East End 

December 20, 1939 


Page Eleven 

One Chri^tma^ Cv€ 

By ALdrcy Hereon, '40 

Mother sat tensely upon the daven- 
port listening, and as she sat she 
watched the soft snow falling. Then 
she sat up stiffly, for she caught the 
sound that her ears sought, the scrap- 
ing and pounding of father's heavy 
boots as he came into the house 
from the garage. 

"She is worse, Frank." Mother 
whispered hesitatingly as if even to 
say it would bring reality home to 

Father whistled, put his hands in 
his pockets. "Doctor here still? Did 
the nurse come? Should I go in? 
Anything to be done?" while he was 
removing his heavy riding coat and 
leather stained knit gloves. Little 
Aenid solemnly stood in front of him 
waiting to take them. Her pigtailed 
head bowed reverently at the things 
mother and father were talking of 
in such quiet worried tones. The 
warm glow of the log fire softened 
the lines of mother's face, and turned 
lively lights on in fafner's eyes and 
hid the gray, wiping years from both 
their faces. Father held out his 
hands to the fire, drew down the cor- 
ners of his mouth as he searched the 
live coals, striving to draw from them 
some word of hope for mother. Moth- 
er was sitting withdrawn in the cor- 
ner of the couch, vainly hunting the 
Silent flakes of snow now falling fast- 
er and thicker, falling so silently, so 
terribly silently. Aenid sat on the 
stool at the mantle and held father's 
coat to the heat. The only light in 
the high ceilinged room was the grate 
fire, and the arms of light seemed to 
be stabbing at the darkness, forcing 
it back only to have it recoil and 
spring at the flames again. Father 
turned suddenly and looked at moth- 
er; then realized that the words which 
he had found were merely words so 
he let them dangle in his thoughts 
unspoken. He looked so big and 
helpless that mother smiled. He 
reached down to where Aenid's little 
head bent industriously over the mo- 
mentous task of holding the coat all 
beaded with crystal, to the fire. 
Father ran his fingers through the 
little looped up braids, finally giving 
one a tug. 

"Where is Jean, Honey?" 
"Taking down the holly and the 
pine leaves." 

"And Dicky-boy?" 
"Taking the tree down, putting the 
train away." 
"And Audrey?" 
"She took Miss Pill-bottle home." 

"Miss who?" 

Mother put in a word of explana- 
tion to the end that Aenid and the 
day nurse were not the best of 

"I don't like her," Aenid affirmed. 
She told me that I make noise, that 
I couldn't see Grandma. She wouldn't 
let me go in. I even heard Grandma 
tell her to, but she didn't. Audrey 
should 'a let her walk home; maybe 
she would get lost in a snow drift!" 

"Where is Uncle Sam. Aenid?" 

"He went to see Santa about some 
things. I don't think it will do much 
good though." 

The heavy hall door swung open, 
sighing wearily. The in-rush of air 
flew at the flames unmercifully. In 
clomped Dick dejectedly, and stood at 
the fire place helping father gaze into 
it. He took out a crushed bandanna 
handkerchief and zealously scraped 
at the smudges of pine tar on his 
scrubbed hands. He couldn't think 
of anything to say for a while, then 
said, "Shucks." 

Suddenly he felt that he had said 
the wrong thing and glanced sheep- 
ishly up at father and went over to 
mother and sat down beside her. He 
dropped his eyes and worked at the 
tar on his hands vigorously, "Snowing 
hard now," he offered lamely. 

The sparks that sprang to life as 
father threw a log and kindling on Tne 
flre sent shafts of warmth and light 
dancing into the pools of shadows 
which had collected around the edges 
of the room. Jeanie slipped into the 
room. They all looked up. "Oh, 
Doctor Kaufman just came down to 
the kitchen and told me to tell you 
that she is much better." Her brown 
eyes shone, and she clasped and un- 
clasped her hands. Her wiry uneven 
smile proved what she had said, and 
she dropped into a chair happily. 
Mother and father sighed, for the re- 
strained emotions that had been 
damming up were suddenly freed 
and sought escape. 

"Audrey is back too, we have a 
surprise for you." 

Aenid had no time for surprises, 
though, but excitedly asked a dozen 
questions. "Could I go and see her 
now, right now? Will she have 
Christmas dinner with us? Is she 
going to light the plum pudding?" 

Father put his arm around Jeanie 
and gave her a big squeeze. 

"Hey — open the door please, some- 
one," came from outside in the hall, 
accompanied by the rattling china 

cups on the glass-topped serving 
wagon. Aenid, in a burst of her un- 
requieted. enthusiasm, opened the 
door, and made little hungry sounds 
at the fragrance of cliocolate. Jean 
put long matches to tall candles with 
red Santas and holly. Dick heaped 
pine boughs on the fire. As he did so 
he commented, "This is one way that 
a Christmas tree looks and smells 
pretty nice." 

"This is one way to spend a Christ- 
mas Eve," sighed mother. 

Father poured the steamy hot choc- 
olate for each of us, and we all sat 
around the fire as close together as 
we could get without having it ap- 
pear that way. "Well Audrey, how 
were the streets? Road in from the 
stable was rotten. I worried about 
those tires. They are carrying too 
much air for weather like this." 

"The sidewalks are frightful, but 
the streets are fairly good, no ice yet. 
Say Dick, why don't you sweep the 
snow off the walk before we go to 
bed; it's covering the ice and is 
pretty nasty. There are a lot of 
caroUers out tonight. No better is 
she? Oh I hope everything comes out, 
for this Christmas was meaning so 
much to her. She loves to see the 
packages and bundles coming in; the 
holly and pine thrill her so. She said 
night before last, that mistletoe was 
the 'cutest' stuff." 

Jeanie got up and walked to the 
window. It was a tall window, 
reaching from the floor to the ceiling. 
The snow was banked high against 
it; Jeanie abstractly kicked at the 
snow, which lay like a falling drape 
from either side of the outside. "Lis- 
ten," she said, "the bells, it's mid- 
night. Christmas, it's Christmas. Oh 
do you hear the caroUers?" 

Aenid whispered hesitatingly, 
"Look, Momma, Doctor Kaufman." 

"I came to tell you ... I came to 
tell you that she is gone." 

Outside through the crispness of 
the frosty air, the ecstatic voices of 
the caroUers broke the dead silence 
in the room . . . "Peace on earth 
and mercy mild." 



SChenley 9811 5610 Wilkins Ave. 

Page Twelve 


December 20, 1939 


Ey Ann liamiltcn Miller^ 4C 

Lite in a German University dif- 
fers fundamentally from life in an 
American college, for the respective 
basic attitudes toward higher educa- 
tion are, generally speaking, diamet- 
rically opposed. The practical-mind- 
ed German never attends a Univer- 
sity for a liberal education, nor does 
the practical-minded German do 
something just because one does it, 
even if that something is getting a 
so-called higher education. A Ger- 
man goes to school to learn, to learn 
something specific, something usable. 
Because this is his attitude, the kind 
of work he does, and the way he does 
it is unique to an American. Attend- 
ing classes, doing outside reading, dis- 
cussing problems with professors and 
fellow students — that is a student's 
life in Germany. 

The academic freedom afforded 
those who attend a University is re- 
markable. There is no cut-system, 
because there is no compulsory at- 
tendance of classes . This freedom is 
based on two facts: first, the German 
attitude towards higher education, 
and secondly, the fact that not the 
University but the state gives exam- 
inations. State examinations cover 
four months time including oral and 
written tests, and practical exercises. 
If you miss a class, you have probably 
missed a vital part of that subject, but 
nevertheless you are held responsible 
for that information. Hence, there's 
not much point in cutting a class, be- 
cause you have only deferred that 
which must eventually be done. This 
system goes so far that when a pro- 
fessor cuts a class, he must hold it at 
a later date — by students' demand! 

But the Germans are a friendly 
people, and a people who enjoy life 
phjsically as well as mentally. So, 
to reimburse the physical for having 
sat by so quietly in the background 
wJiile the mental took the spotlight, 
there are vacations. The only offi- 
cial one-day holiday is the ninth of 
November, the day honored as the 
Anniversary of National Socialism in 
Germany. But Christmas vacation, 
in which is included between-semes- 
ter vacation, lasts for two months. 
Most of the students go skiing in the 
Alps, or travel somewhere during this 
time, however there are always those 
intellectuals who spend their vaca- 
tions in the library, or those who 
throughout the year leave spend their 
evenings participating in Life-in- 
Munich. Professors never give as- 
signments. They will tell you what 

the text book is, suggest other refer- 
ences, and recommend intensive re- 
search in the various and numerous 
libraries. From then on they lecture, 
and you are on your own. Students 
do not recite, they attend lectures and 
take notes. Preparation is a purely 
voluntary thing; so if you have slack- 
ened your preparation pace, the two 
months' vacation is a good time to 
catch-up. Easter vacation lasts a 
week, Whitsuntide, a week-end. The 
academic year closes the end of July 
and begins again the first of Novem- 
ber. The University and technical 
schools are open for summer school as 
v/ell, so that those who are ambitious 
and want to finish within the mini- 
mum time limit of four years, may 
continue attending classes throughout 
the summer. 

Social life of students as such is 
fairly limited. All students are, au- 
tomatically upon enrollment, mem- 
bers of the "International Studenten 
Klub." Every Friday night one of the 
national groups gives a program, 
with a dance. The attendance is 
largely foreign students and those 
Germans in their first year, who 
haven't yet learned that attending a 
University is a full-time project. 

There is no dormitory life, be- 
cause there are no dormitories. Stu- 
dents live at home, or if they go away 
to school, board and room with a 
family. At the University there is a 
list of families who have submitted 
their names as being willing to take 
in students, giving rates, and pre- 
ference for foreign or native students. 
There is a place called the "Student- 
enheim" (Students' home) for those 
students whose budgets are small. 
But the Studentenheim does not serve 
meals. It is, in the vernacular, only 
a place to hang your hat. 

I have been commenting on the 
German students, now let me tell you 
about their unusual way of com- 
menting. Students in Germany re- 
serve the right to express them- 
selves in class. When a well-liked 
professor comes in, the students 
pound the desks with their hands, 
and stomp their feet. If a professor 

says something that would bring a 
"Hear! Hear!" in the House of Com- 
mons, German students voice their' 
approval by stomping and pounding. 
But if any professor should be un- 
fortunate enough to say something of 
which the students disapprove, they 
shuffle their feet. Or if anyone 
should come late into class, and by 
his interruption disturb the status 
quo, he too is doomed to that most 
humiliating of humiliations, the 

Now something about these people 
who pound and shuffle and take Uni- 
versity life so seriously. The human 
physical aspect is very different from 
that of our American college groups. 
There are very few girls, and among 
the girls very few chic ones. Nine 
out of ten times the personable young 
women are American or Scandinav- 
ian. A greater percentage of the men 
are over thirty years of age. and 
many are older than that, for at- 
tending a University means working 
for a Ph. D. 

You will probably wonder how I, 
still striving for a Bachelor Degree, 
managed to keep up with potential 
"Ph. D.ers." To be quite frank with 
you, I didn't. But the tutors gave 
us Americans our examinations in 
University courses, took our incapac- 
ities (as well as our age and nation- 
ality) into consideration. Most of 
our group were about twenty years 
old, and were not expected to have 
the background that our German 
classmates have. As Americans, it 
wasn t expected that we know very 
much, or care very much about the 
University courses. You see, in the 
eyes of a German and more partic- 
ularly in the eyes of a German pro- 
fessor, the American creed is: 

"Eat! Drink! Be Merry! — and 

Calling up the Classes 

of '42 and '43 

The February Issue Will Be 
Devoted to Your Work 


6010 Penn Avenue 

MOntrose 2I44I 

December 20, 1939 


Page Thirteen 


by Dorothy Vale, '42 

She leaned heavily against the wall 
— she was very tired — while she sur- 
veyed the scene before her. 

It was nine o'clock Saturday even- 
ing. Since four-thirty she had been 
helping the women of the Willing 
Workers' class prepare tables for 
their chicken dinner. The dining 
room in the basement of the churcli, 
seated one hundred and twenty peo- 
ple with not too much room to spare. 
Now every seat was taken; the last 
arrival had just been served; and the 
girls and women who were waiting 
on the tables moved more slowly, 
stopping leisurely now and then to 
talk. The conversation and laughter, 
the clatter of heavy church cutlery 
against the cumbersome plates, and 
the noise of pans and kettles and 
crockery from the kitchen filled the 
room with a low, not unpleasing 

She looked at the table before her. 
One could tell it was late in the even- 
ing by the number of grease spots and 
coffee stains on the table cloth. The 
plates had been changed at least four 
times (she'd heard Mrs. McCormick 
tell Mrs. Phillips that almost five 
hundred tickets had been sold) and 
each time there had been a few 
more smears on the- linen. Should 
she refill the bowl of cole slaw? She 
decided not. There was still enough 
in the bowl if that portly man on 
the left should want more, and evei'y- 
body else at the table had had as 
much as he would want. 

Johnny was having a grand time, 
she noticed. He was stuffing food 
into his mouth with satisfaction and 
little difficulty by means of his fingers 
and a spoon. Johnny's mother was 
waiting on a table on the other side 
of the room, and couldn't see Johnny. 
She wondered idly if Johnny looked 
like his father, who had been killed in 
the World War. He was buried in 
the cemetery at the foot of t'ne hill, 
beside one of his forebears who had 
died in the Revolution. She glanced 
over her shoulders at the words chis- 
eled in the large granite plaque there: 
"A. R. Presbyterian Church. Built 
1793. Rebuilt 1835. Again rebuilt 

As she looked back at the table she 
saw Mr. Mitchell take the last roll 
from the platter. Going over, she 
picked up the plate and took it back 
into the engine room to refill it. The 
two boxes of rolls, immediately inside 
the dr-or, were waist-high, and she 
had to lean far over to reac'n the rolls, 

for the boxes were almost empty. 
The crisp fresh smell of hard rolls 
and the sweet smell of the cloverleaf 
buns mingled with the odor of the 
damp stone floor as she straightened 
up, the meat platter piled high with 
rolls. She wondered what the men 
who had built the church would think 
now if they could see their engine 
room filled with boxes of rolls, boil- 
ers of coffee, pans of cake, sliced, 
ready to serve, tubs of soapy dish 
water, and stacks of dishes. 

She carried the platter back to the 
table very gingerly. That top roll 
didn't look too steady. She watch- 
ed Mr. Mitchell as he picked up an- 
other bun — how huge his hands were 
— massive, solid hands. The kind of 
hands Diego Rivera paints: hands 
that can empty the udders of a dozen 
cows rhythmically, gracefully, surely, 
one after another: hands that can 
take a slender needle and dig a thorn 
from a boy's calloused bare foot 
without the quiver of a muscle; hands 
that know the feel of the earth, and 
love it. Mr. Mitchell's hands, Mr. 
Phillip's hands, even young Johnny's 
hands — her eyes traveled the length 
of the table — almost every other pair 
of hands was the same. Strong, solid, 
brown and leathery hands, with nails 
cut or worn short, like the nails of a 
sheep dog that travels over rough 
pasture land. 

Her eyes fixed theinselves on 
Eleanor Phillip's hands. They were 
smooth and white, the nails polished 
and long (long like a pet Pomera- 
nian's nails that haven't been clip- 
ped), but Eleanor's hands will be able 
to darn socks if they ever have to, 
she thought, even though they play 
the best game of bridge in college. 
And she wondered if Eleanor's was 
the most popular shade of nail polish 
at Westminster this fall. 

She looked at Eleanor's mother, not 
a handsome woman, but her head was 
smooth and shining, and she had a se- 
rene face, intelligent eyes. Eleanor's 
mother had been a school teacher be- 
fore her marriage, just like Johnny's 
mother. Now she was a farmer's 
wife. Not an easy life, but a full one. 
Mrs. Phillips was the prototype, more 
or less, of e\'ery woman in the room — 
even of that stringy-haired, discour- 
aged-looking woman barely visible 
through the kitchen doorway, who 
was serving out second helpings of 
chicken dressing. 

Those helpings of chicken dressing 
v/ere for Mr. and Mrs. Donaldson, she 

^aw. She wondered if they had e\ei 
missed a Willing Workers' Chicken 
Dinner, and she smiled at the thought. 
Mrs. Donaldson might be too old to 
help prepare the dinners anymore, 
but she would never miss one. Mr. 
and Mrs. Donaldson were the oldest 
couple in the room. She tried to re- 
member whether it was their fortieth 
or forty-fifth wedding anniversai-y 
they had celebrated last year. There 
was only the slightest bend to Mr. 
Donaldson's shoulders, a concession to 
the weight of years and troubles that 
rested upon them, but the head was 
still erect and confident. She won- 
dered how many people could bear 
the discouragements that couple had 
— the loss of home and child and 
money, of everything except each 
other — and still be able to sit so 
straight and smile. 

She leaned heavily against the 
wall — she was very tired — while she 
surveyed the scene before her. And 
she felt a slow surge of pride that 
she could call these people her peo- 
ple — these people, with their goodli- 
ness, and earthliness and courage. 
They were plain — but they were the 
blood and bone of America. They 
were plain — but their sons and 
daughters, college-bound or farm- 
bound, were the men and women of 
tomorrow, and their roots, whether 
they liked it or not were here, here 
where the letters chiseled deep in 
the granite read, "Built 1793, rebuilt 
1835, again rebuilt 1897." 





Page Fourteen 


December 20. 1939 


by Rachel rirk, '4C 

Tlio woman sat in a wooden rock- 
ing-chair on tlie west side of the 
porch, her work lying neglected in 
her lap. The hands that held the 
blue denim overalls she had been 
mending were square, with blunt 
finger-tips and reddened knuckles, 
and there was no polish on the short 
nails. She had not taken the thimble 
from the middle finger of her right 
hand; it rested against the end of a 
needle which was already half-way 
through the material, as if, after a 
moment, it would continue its work. 
The woman was no longer young, nor 
yet was she middle-aged, but there 
was about her an aura, a sort of 
glowing serenity. She had the calm 
beauty of a woman who has asked 
little from life except the chance to 
work for someone she loved. 

She sat there, rocking slowly and 
Quietly. A rhythmic little breeze 
stirred the wisps of hah- that had 
escaped the smooth brown coil low 
on her neck. Her <orehead was 
broad and high, her nose straight, her 
lips full and sweet. The blue of her 
cotton dress and the golden tan of 
her skin made her eyes the color of 
the sky on cloudless summer morn- 
ings. Under the level black line of 
her brows, they viewed with content- 
ment the scene before her. Her gaze 
did not go beyond the hill that curved 
to meet the sunset; it rested upon the 
fields and meadows and orchards 
around her — the farm, her home, her 

This was the time of the day she 
loved the best. Just before supper, 
it was a tranquil hour, cool and un- 
demanding and filled with a faintly 
other-worldly light which made the 
beautiful earth even more lovely. All 
sounds came softly, as if filtered 
through velvet. The rattling of the 
milk pails made gentle music in the 
barn across the road, and from the 
kitchen where her mother was gi\-ing 
Betsey her supper, the murmur of 
voices was almost lost in the dimness 
o<' the house. 

The gi-apes on the arbor beside the 
walk were growing fuller, darker. 
She could smell the muskiness of 
them already. Over the stone fence 
back of the house was the orchard. 
The trees she could see — peach and 
cherry — had finished bearing for the 
summer, but beyond them were the 
purple-laden plum trees and the ap- 
ple trees heavy with their burden — 
the spicy Macintosh, the yellow 

Maiden Blush, the striped Court- 
lands. Even more wonderful to see 
than the foaming pink and white of 
the spring, she thought, was the 
golden fulfillment of late summer. 

This year's harvest had seemed to 
her more bountiful than ever. The 
wheat heads had been heavier, the 
corn taller. The silo and the lofts 
and the bins were filled: her cup- 
boards in the cellar could hold no 
more jars of vegetables from the 
garden and fruit from the trees be- 
hind the house. The earth's yield 
had been almost unbelievably lux- 

Perhaps it was because she was 
more sensitively attuned to Nature 
this summer than ever be' ore, that 
all growing things held such a fasci- 
nation for her. She smiled, then, re- 
membering early morning excursions 
through the dewy grass to the turkey 
pens to note the progress of the 
young birds. Usually, she considered 
turkeys sillier than geese, and made 
Kenneth, the hired man, feed them, 
but now even they were a part of the 
enchantment she was under. 

The child she bore within her — the 
unaware source of her newly-sharp- 
ened awareness — would he see the 
world so poignantly beautiful? 
Would he find peace and joy only in 
the earth? Would there be for him 
ro truth away from soil and sun and 
morning mist? Or would there be 
any beauty, any peace or joy, any 
truth anywhere in the world for him? 

Some people thought not. She had 
read their articles in the Reader's 
Digest during the short summer 
evenings. They had disturbed her, 
the things they said about wars and 
insanity and plagues and the end of 
civilization and the breakdown of re- 
lig'on and the destruction of the 
world. She had read of the prepara- 
tions for war and propaganda and 
military training and how the coun- 
tries would line up against one an- 
other and how many airplanes they 
all had. It had seemed to her that 
the world was full of hate, permeated 
by it, governed and moved by it. 
And the hatred was caused by fear, 
and together, they crushed out of 
people all other emotions, and there 
was no room anywhere for love or 
kindness or pity. 

The persons whose writing she 
had read, some of them, believed 
there would be a great war, horrible 
beyond any imagining. Cities and 

towns would be destroyed; the face 
of the earth would be changed — 
scarred and pitted; hundreds of 
thousands of people would be killed 
or would die; life as we knew it 
would disappear; and civilization 
would be forced to begin all over 

She had tried, finally, to picture 
a world devastated, her farm-world 
shelled and burnt and empty. The 
house would be a pile of ashes, the 
barn and sheds heaps of dust. Where 
the fertile fields and meadows had 
been would be only a rocky, dusty 
battle-ground where not even weeds 
would be growing. The orchard 
would be splintered and stripped 
and ghostly. There would be no 
fruit, no wheat, no grass, no sun, 
no life. , 

No life, for how long? How soon 
would it be before green shoots 
would thrust themselves out of the 
roots of the orchard trees? And 
grass and weeds would grow. No 
one could stop them, no one! The 
zinnias along her garden fence would 
seed themselves and flaunt their red 
and orange and yellow, and if anyone 
were there, they could soon have 
wheat and corn and vegetables grow- 
ing. She and her husband and 
Mother and Kenneth and Bob and 
Betsey and the baby-soon-to-be- 
born might not be there, but the 
farm would be. Nothing could de- 
stroy the earth. The world was so 
beautiful; beauty cannot be obliter- 
ated completely. 

No, she was not afraid for her new 
child. He might have to search far 
for happiness; he might have to 
fight for truth; but beauty and peace 
would always be here — on the land. 
And he would find them, she was 
sure of it. 

Indian Song 

By Marden Armstrong, '42 

It is the dove — 
That faint clear call 
Winging over the clifls, 
Over the mountains, 
Over the chanting waters. 

The beads make no noise 
The moccasins are soft. 

The call of the dove 

Thin as smoke at dawn 


Over the cliffs, over the mountains, 

Over the chanting waters. 

December 20, 1939 


Page Fifteen 

This Thing Of 
A Vain Attempt 

By Dottie Lou Evans 

Oh boy, the door closed, the speak- 
er started to speak, we don't have 
any chapel cuts left and what to do? 

Well, let's see. We might just ti-y 
a bold entrance by way of the front 
door. But then, on the other hand, 
certain interested members of the 
audience might object too strenuously 
because the door squeaks and, what 
is even worse, the floor boards sound 
like something lifted bodily from the 
"Flyingr Dutchman" and transported 
to PCW. On top of that, looks from 
the faculty are enough to take the 
starch from any over-eager chapel 
gate crasher. 

Then there is the little method of 
unobstrusiveness. We could pull up 
our coat collar (or, if there isn't any 
pullable collar, shrink shyly into our 
"Sloppy Joe") and creep in with a 
fervent prayer that everyone is too 
deeply engrossed to notice our hum- 
ble entrance. Of course, there is 
still that little point of noises like a 
convention of mice when we sneak to 
our seats. 

Since that is ruled out, how about 
being stage-door Johnnies? If we 
can scramble up the steps and exert 
enough energy to push the back door 
open, why not quietly sneak into a 
rear pew and hope the rolltaker is 
freakish enough to possess eyes in 
the back of her head? However, 
those on the platform might still 
see us and there is nothing like a 
nice stealthy approach to discum- 
booberate a speaker, especially if the 
chapel goer is a scintillating senior 
in a flowing black gown. 

Well, as the arguments against that 
are fairly convincing, how's about a 
soap-box and "peeping Tom" act. 
Some inner friend could use the ex- 
cuse of an extreme need for air- 
conditioned ventilation and open the 
window a few yards. Then we could, 
through a series of stage whispers, 
catch the roUtaker's roaming eye 
(that eye-business is, of course ft- 
uratively speaking) just to inform 
her we are there. But . . . the in- 
evitable would happen, that soap- 
box would become kindling wood 
under us and discumbooberation 
would again set in. 

At this point you have made your- 
self the victim of numerous snarly 
looks, the sufferer of skinned shins 
(due mainly to your unsteady perch 

With the Money You'll Save Traveling Rome at 

G R E Y H U N D'S 


To Hundreds of Cities^Eflfective December 19th 

IMPROVE your standing as a first- 
class- Santa Claus this year. Chances 
are you can check off a largepart of your 
Christmas list with the money you save 
at Greyhound's reduced fares for ycur 
trip home. Super-Coaches are warm and 
comfortable in any weather — and the 
crowd's always congenial . . . Get into 
the holiday spirit — get aboard a Grey- 
hound Super-Coach— get going! Merry 
Christmas 1 


Liberty Avenue and Grant Street ^^ 
Phone: GRant 5700 '^•' 

Round -Trip Fares 

Chicago S13.95 

Cincinnati ».*« 

Cleveland 4.00 

Cnlumbus 5-55 

Detroit 8.S0 

Fort Wayne 9.H5 

Indianapolis 11.55 

Springfield. Ohio .... 7.60 

Toledo "■■-0 

Youngstown 2.25 


Johnston The Florist 


MOntrose 7777 

HAzel 1012 

Page Sixteen 


December 20, 1939 

on kindling wood), and a first rate 
psychopathic case. 

So, come on kids, let's get to chapel 
on time and save all this trouble and 
embarrassment. We can, if we try 
as hard as we have tried to crash the 






'^=^ SEALS 


25c To I'itSO P. M. 


Starting Friday, December 23 








"No, Mother, there's 
nothing wrong, I've 
just been too busy to 
write so I thought 
I'd call up instead." 

7'/» so glad you did. 
dad and I were wor- 
ried. It's grand to hear 
your voice again," 

Why not call tonight? 
Rates are reduced on 
most Long Distance 
calls every night after 
seven and all day Sun- 
day. The Bell Tele- 
phone Company of 


Vol. XIX Pennsylvania Colleg-e for Women, Pittsburgh, Pa., January 17, 1940 

No. 4 

The Calm Before— 

Page Two 


Januaty 17, 1940 


Pennsylvania College for Women 
Pittsburgh, Pa. 

Subscription H'l.OO per year in advance 

1939 Member 1940 

Pissocided Gollebicrfe Press 


National Advertising Service, Inc. 

College Publishers Representative 
420 Madison Ave. New York. N. Y. 

Chicago • Boston • Los Asgeles • San Francisco 

Editorial Staff 

Co-Editors Betty Eastwood, "40 

Rachel Kirk, '40 

Business Manager Ruth Fite, '40 

News Editor Nancy Over. '40 

Assistant News Editor Dorothy Evans, '42 

Feature Editor Jo Anne Healey, '41 

Literary Editors Renee Schreyer, '40 

Jean Miller, '42 

Copy Editor Claire Stewart, '42 

Make-up Editor Katherine Rutter, '40 

Staff Photographer Catherine Thompson, '40 

Proof Readers Jean Hammer. '41 

Louise Haldeman, *43 
Claire Horwitz, '43 

Copy Readers Rose Marie Fillippelli, '43 

Mar j orie Noonan . '43 
Faculty Advisor Hazel C. Shupp 

News Staff 

Jane Evans. Dorothy Marshall. Lucille Cummings, Jean Sweet, Dotty 
Oliver, Marion Rowell, Helen Waugh. Margaret Anderson, Mary Ann 
Macky, Betty Ann Morrow, Marian Lambie. 

Feature Staff 

Helen Schellkopf. Mildred Stewart, Jean Burchinal. Margery Heth. 
Althea Lowe, Betty Brown, Mary Louise Henry. Jeanne Anne Ayres, 
Mary Alice Spellmire. Mary Evelyn Ducey, Janet Ross, Betty 

Business Staff 

Betty Bacon, Alison Croft, Peggy Dietz, Jane Fitzpatrick, Eleanor 
Garrett, Virginia Gillespie, Ma rj orie Higgins, Beth Howard, Jane 
McCall. Mary Jane McCormick, Nancy Scott, Gloria Silverstein, Mary 
Singer, Bizzy Ward, Lois Wirth. 

jottings in the margin 

Signs-of-the-post-holiday-season . . . people with 
their tongues hanging out, watching the mail-box . . . 
Now that the Dies Committee has handed in its gentle 
report, American collegians can sleep nights . . . The 
gray snow on campus getting grayer . . . Nobody-loves- 
me-department . . . wedding plans and hope chests are 
overshadowing worry about exams . . . How come no 
picture of PCW tray-sliding on the hill, now that winter 
is half over? . . . Roseate dreams . . . the seniors' idea 
of taking it easy next semester . . . Shades of our child- 
hood . . . those long black licorice sticks in Co-op . . . 
There ought to be a law against people with only one or 
two exams . . . Have you noticed the increased activity 
in the library lately? . . . Signs-of-the-decadent-times 
... all those scholars who hunt snap courses in a most 
diligent manner . . . The translucent evening sky, 
presage of spring. 

Lilies of Mother-of -Pearl 

In Anne Morrow Lindbergh's "Prayer for Peace" in 
the January Reader's Digest, she quotes an exquisite 
Chinese poem. One stanza seems peculiarly applicable to 
the situation in which the modern woman finds herself, 
the same situation that prevailed in 675 B. C, when a 
young woman of the Orient wrote: 

"I may walk in the garden and gather 
Lilies of mother-of-pearl. 
I had a plan vv'ould have saved the State. 
— But mine are the thoughts of a girl." 

For all too many thousands of years, the only exist- 
ences possible for women have been decorative or domes- 
tic. Our roles have been nurse-maids and cooks or 
dancing-girls and courtesans. A very few have escaped 
the relegation to kitchen or ballroom, the indulgent 
laughter of men at their opinions; but most women have 
had to seek expression for their ideas and dreams and 
hopes in the lives of others. For most women their in- 
fluence on the children in their care has been the sole 
power they have wielded. 

Let there be no misunderstanding. No one advocates 
a feminine rebellion against domesticity, and every one 
names the teaching and guiding of children the noblest 
work on earth. But inculcating one's doctrines in young 
minds is an indirect and frequently ineffectual way to put 
them into practice. After they have left the classroom 
or the nursery, children are apt to forget the principles 
therein laid down. 

What, then, can women do to bring order out of the 
world-chaos, to shape beauty out of formlessness? Can 
they do more than gather their eternal "lilies of mother- 
of-pearl"? May they not help to make tangible their 
dreams of a world where their children may live in 

Perhaps not. They have been given the vote, and 
politics is still corrupt. Several women hold important 
positions in government and business, and our democracy 
is no more nearly perfect than it was before they entered 
it, and business continues to operate on theories that 
would do credit to Captain Kidd. 

But, it is hoped, the failure of women thus far is 
due only to their inexperience, their lack of stirring 
words to their centuries of silence. Some day, we trust, 
women will find their voices and will use their particular 
gifts, their common sense, sympathy, talent for order, 
to frame a new world. 

In the meantime, it is the duty of women to examine 
the world as it stands, to understand what are called 
"current events," to bring such influence as they have to 
the cause of peace and life for everyone. Most important 
of all, women, who realize most poignantly that all 
people are alike and that other mothers send their sons 
to war, women must show the men who set up boun- 
daries that a world without barriers is a world at peace. 

It is time now to leave the "lilies of mother-of-pearl" 
for children to gather. 

January 17, 1940 


Page Three 

Opinion Survey 
Made As Exams 
Loom Ahead 

With Blue Books looming on the 
horizon, once again we are beginning 
to be exam-conscious. We malve 
more frequent trips to the library, 
prepare our daily lessons more care- 
fully, and start burning a little more 
midnight oil. We stock up on food 
and cokes for the long seige ahead. 
What do we think about exams? 
Teachers and students all agi-ee that 
in studying for them we are able to 
get a good point of view about the 
subjects that we have been studying 
since fall. Exams make us catalogue 
and assign to their proper places 
all the stray facts and bits of in- 
formation that have been thrown 
out by teachers all semester. 

Dr. Butler approves of examina- 
tions because in studying for them 
we receive a perspective of the 
course that it would otherwise be 
impossible to get. She disapproves 
of cramming and believes that there 
is much to be gained from exams 
if you study correctly for them. 

Mrs. Shupp approves of examina- 
tions and thinks that once you get 
down to studying for them that they 
are a lot of fun. They give you a 
chance to summarize the material 
that has been passed out in bits all 
semester and they give you an op- 
portunity to tell all that you know 
about a subject. 

Dean Moor believes in giving ex- 
aminations that require thinking. 
He beMeves that thought questions 
develop your initiative and he dis- 
approves of cramming. 

Dr. WaUace says in studying for 
exams, that the student will co- 
ordinate the material of her course 
which she would otherwise not do. 
He thinks that we should have com- 
prehensive exams that would cover 
not one subject, but the entire field. 

The general opinion among the 
students seems to be that if we did 
not have exams we should never 
make ourselves study the semester's 
work as a whole and that in our 
studying for finals we clear up many 
vague ideas about our subjects. We 
should like to have shorter exams, 
and since we have an Honor Sys- 
tem we should like to take tests 
where we want to take them instead 
of being confined to a classroom, or 
at least be allowed to leave the ex- 
am to walk around the building for 
a few minutes. 

Famous Pianist 
Gives Recital 

Josef Wagner, world famous pian- 
ist and composer, will give a recital 
in chapel, February 12. 

In his concert Mr. Wagner will 
play Beethoven's Sonata in E Major, 
Debussy's Poissons d'Or, Stravinski's 
Andante, Prokofiefif's March, Hinde- 
simth's Tanzstueck, Casella's Bolero, 
Minuetto, and Galop Final, and his 
own compositions. Variations on a 
French Nursery song. Prelude, and 

Although he has been in America 
less than two years, Mr. Wagner has 
given concerts in New York, St. 
Louis. Miami, Detroit, Providence, 
and Newark. Soon after his first 
concert in the United States, cities 
acclaimed him as king among the 
top-ranking musicians of the day. 

Mr. Wagner has given a concert in 
every capital of Europe and is said 
to be the foremost pianist and com- 
poser of the continent. He won the 
International Chopin Prize in War- 
saw and a Bluethner grand piano in 
Dresden, at a German pianists' con- 
vention in 1930. 

Religious Week 
To Be Held 

"Religious Interest" week will be- 
gin on February 12. After the suc- 
cess of the one held last year by the 
Federal Council of Churches, Car- 
negie Tech, the University of Pitts- 
burgh, and PCW have decided to 
have a joint conference this year. 
These meetings were conducted for a 
week on all three campuses and con- 
sisted of luncheons, afternoon meet- 
ings, and teas on each campus. The 
first talk here will be on February 
16. Dr. Louis L. Mann, who is Rabbi 
of the Chicago Sinai Congregation 
will represent the Jewish religion. 
Dr. Mann received his Ph. D. from 
Yale in 1914 and is one of the fore- 
most Jewish Rabbis. He has spent 
most of his life working on reforms 
for the youth of America. The 
Protestant representative will be Dr. 
J. Harry Cotton, minister of the 
Broad Street Presbyterian Church in 
Columbus, Ohio. Dr. Cotton receiv- 
ed his Ph. D. from Princeton in 
1931. Dr. Cotton has lectured many 
years in India, Japan, and China. 
The Catholic deinonination will not 
send a representative to the confer- 

Mary Ellen (Jiase 
W ill Be Speaker 
At (^onimeneement 

Mary Ellen Chase. American author 
and educator, will be the Commence- 
ment Day speaker when the class of 
1940 is graduated June 10, President 
Herbert L. Spencer announced to the 

Miss Chase, whose most recent 
book is an autobiography, "The 
Goodly Fellowship," was one of the 
speakers suggested by the seniors 
when they discussed graduation 
plans at the President and Mrs. 
Spencer's dinner in December. 

The author, professor of English at 
Smith College, was born in Blue Hill, 
Maine. She was gi-aduated from the 
University of Maine in 1909 and re- 
ceived her M. A. in 1918 and her 
Ph. D. in 1922 from the University of 
Minnesota. Miss Chase also has de- 
gi-ees of doctor of literature from the 
University of Maine and Bowdoin 
College and the degree of doctor 
of humane letters from Colby Col- 

From 1918 to 1926, Miss Chase was 
instructor and assistant professor of 
English at the University of Min- 
nesota. Since 1926, she has been a 
member of the faculty of Smith Col- 

Mary Ellen Chase is the author al- 
so of "The Silver Shell," "A Goody 
Heritage," "Mai-y Peters" and "Silas 
Crockett," "This England," and 
"Dawn in Lyonesse" and is a fre- 
quent contributor to periodicals. She 
is also editor of "Constructive 
Theme Writing for College Fresh- 
men," familiar to all PCW students 
of Enghsh 1-2. 

French Club to Hear 
Monsieur Max Vivier 

The French Club will present on 
Friday, January 19, in Berry Hall, 
Monsieur Max Vivier, who will speak 
on current events. Monsieur Vivier 
served with the Foreign Legion and 
was awarded the Croix de Guerre in 
the World War. He is at present 
making a lecture tour of the eastern 
United States. 

His lecture, which will begin at 
4:30, will be partly in English, partly 
in French. Admission will be 25 
cents, and tickets are now on sale. 
On the evening of the 19th, Monsieur 
Vivier will lecture at the Alliance 
Francaise on his impressions of the 
Foreign Legion. 

Page Four 


January 17, 1940 

Mr, Goldberg Speaks 
On Movie Industry 

"Everybody in the United States 
has two jobs: his own and the 
movies," said Mr. Harry Goldberg 
who spoke in Chapel, January 9. Mr. 
Goldberg is Director of Publicity for 
Warner Brothers Studio. 

In defining a good picture Mr. 
Goldberg explained that each picture 
is an experiment. A picture cannot 
be called good, bad, or indifferent 
until the public has seen and judged 
it. Pictures like "A Midsummer 
Night's Dream" and "Romeo and 
Juliet," which were expected to be 
popular and on which unbelievable 
sums of money were spent, were 
just about "flops." Mr. Goldberg 
then explained that a "flop" is a pic- 
ture in a hopeless search of an audi- 

In the last few years the movies 
have been inaking biographical pic- 
tures, the speaker said. The first, 
"Louis Pasteur" was a fair success 
while the next "Emile Zola" was 
even better. "Young Mr. Lincoln" 
was released last year and now "Abe 
Lincoln in Illinois," from the 
famous play, is being adapted for the 
screen. The biographies of Edison 
and other well known men will be 
filmed in the near future. 

Another new idea is the series of 
patriotic "shorts" which are now 
being made. These have a thread 
of the ideal of national unity run- 
ning through them. 

Although the studios want to make 
educational films it is very difRcult 
to please the public, said Mr. Gold- 
berg. A picture like "A Midsummer 
Night's Dream" may be unpopular 
while something like "Alcatraz" has 
a huge box-office receipt. 

Alumnae Honor Seniors 
At Dinner Tonight 

The members of the senior class 
will be the honor guests at a dinner 
given tonight by the executive board 
of the Alumnae Association at the 
home of Mrs. George W. Cangi. This 
dinner is given annually for the pur- 
pose of acquainting the seniors with 
the alumnae. 

The committee in charge of the 
dinner includes Mrs. C. Bradley War- 
ren, chairman, Mrs. Robert L. Swiss- 
helm, Mrs. Newton E. Tucker, Mrs. 
Francis Procter, Jr., Mrs, William 
G. Beal, Mrs. Edwin R. Crick, Jr., 
and Mrs. Earl Brown. 

Photographic Contest 
For College Seniors 
Sponsored by Vogue 

The Editors of Vogue Magazine, a 
Conde Nast Publication, have just 
announced a Photographic Contest 
for seniors in American colleges and 

The contest offers two career prizes 
— one for men, one for women — con- 
sisting of a six months' apprentice- 
ship, with salary, in the Conde Nast 
Studios in New York — with the pos- 
sibility of a permanent position on 
completion of the period of appren- 
ticeship. In addition, eight cash 
prizes and honorable mentions will 
be awarded. 

"In our search for new talent," 
said Mrs. Chase, Editor-in-Chief of 
Vogue, "it is natural for Vogue to 
turn to the colleges, where there is a 
keen interest in photography and a 
background in the arts well able to 
produce the type of photographer 
suited to our editorial requirements. 
We believe that among the student 
body of our American colleges there 
are many promising photographers. 
It is our purpose to discover them 
through this contest." 

The contest will be composed of 
a series of eight photographic prob- 
lems to be presented in the maga- 
zine. These will cover a wide range 
of topics, including outdoor and in- 
door shots, action, still life, etc. Win- 
ners of the contest will join Vogue's 
New York staff on or about June 

Freshmen Choose 
Class Officers 

All the freshman officers have now 
been elected for this year. The fol- 
lowing girls were chosen by the class 
during the earlier part of the se- 
mester: president, Jean Archer; vice- 
president, Nina Maley; secretary, 
Jane Fitzpatrick; treasurer, Brice 
Black; A. A. representative, Janet 
Ross; and Student Government rep- 
resentative, Mary Evelyn Ducey. 

The freshman commission consists 
of Brice Black, chairman. Amy Mc- 
Kay, Marian Kieffer, Marion Rowell, 
Marjorie Noonan, Jean Wyre, Doro- 
thy Kaessner, Coleen Lauer, Jean 
Archer, and Dorothy Brooks. The 
commission is now decorating the 
YWCA room and later, in March, 
will have charge of a dance. 

Louise Wallace is chairman of the 
freshman nominating committee. 

PCW is Represented 
As Scientists Meet 

PCW was represented by Dr. 
Hunter and Sally Browne at the one 
hundred fifth meeting of the Amer- 
ican Association for the Advance- 
ment of Science and Associated So- 
cieties, which was held December 
27 to December 30 in Columbus, 
Ohio, on the campus of Ohio State 

The American Association for the 
Advancement of Science and As- 
sociated Societies covers essentially 
the entire field of pure and applied 
science. Its great scientific pro- 
grams are as varied as science and 
almost as varied as modem life. 

The membership of the Association 
consists not only of professional sci- 
entists — university professors and 
other research laboratory investiga- 
tors — but also of amateur scientists 
and the rapidly increasing numbers 
of persons who are interested in 
science and appreciate its importance 
for the future of civilization. These 
non-professional members of the As- 
sociation add much to its influence. 

Dr. Hunter and Sally Browne at- 
tended the sessions and symposia in 
which they were interested. The pro- 
gram at each session consisted of 
short talks on original research, fol- 
lowed by general discussion. 

One of the high points of the meet- 
ing was a talk by Huxley, the noted 
English scientist, now visiting in this 

Miss Welker Offers 
New Piano Classes 

starting, the second semester, new 
piano classes open to all students in 
all grades of musical proficiency will 
be offered by Miss Welker. 

These classes will be organized on 
the basis of the student's musical 
background. The work will be plan- 
ned to meet the needs and desires of 
students in the class. 

This is a real opportunity for stu- 
dents who would like to play the 
piano and have not had financial 
means or time for more intensive 

The rate for these classes is the 
prevailing rate for classes as stated 
in the catalogue. 

The work may be taken with or 
without credit. A semester credit 
is given if a theory course is taken 
with the piano course. 

January 17, 1940 


Page Five 


Library Association 
Holds Conference 

The College and University Section 
of Special Libraries Association of 
Pittsburgh will hold its conference 
at PCW on Saturday, January 20. 

The hour set for the discussion is 
2:30 in the Science Lecture Hall. 

Dr. WilUam M. Randall of the 
Graduate Library School of the Uni- 
versity of Chicago will be the speak- 
er. The subject of his talk is "The 
Relation of the College Librarian to 
the Faculty." 

After the meeting, tea will be serv- 
ed in Berry Hall drawdng room. Miss 
Harriet McCarty and Mrs. L. B. 
Hubbs, PCW Librarians, will be 
hostesses and the Faculty Library 
Committee will pour. Members of 
the committee are Miss Margaret 
Robb, Miss Dorothy M. Shields, Miss 
Laura N. Hunter, and Mrs. Marguer- 
ite Owens. Students helping to serve 
at the tea are Katherine Rutter, '40, 
chairman of the Student Library 
Committee, Peggy Christy, '40, Mary 
Ellen Ostergard, '40, Glady Patton, 
'41, Mary Rodd, '41, Susan Wool- 
dridge, '41, and Marjorie Binford, '41. 

Junior Prom Theme 
Canrlleliglit Ball 

The Junior Promenade which will 
be held this year at the Twentieth 
Century Club, March 1, will be a 
Candlelight Ball. The decorations 
will be white candles in candelabra 
and ferns. The only lights will be 
the illuminated stars on the ceiling 
of the ball room. 

Louise Caldwell, chairman of tlie 
prom, and her committee have not 
yet selected an orchestra. 

Alumna Dies 

Janet McQuilkin Jackson, class of 
'34, died at her home in Bradford, 
Pennsylvania, December 11. She at- 
tended the Ward-Belmont Junior 
College, in Nashville, Tennessee, and 
was graduated from Pennsylvania 
College for Women. 


ee ;b«»\xpcv 


For Discriminating Women 
JAckson 4086 5875 Forbes Street 


I am no out-door girl. I am def- 
initely unathletic. In fact, if, dur- 
ing the course of an intellectual con- 
versation, some aesthete should ask 
me what word in the Enghsh 
language I considered most unlove- 
ly, by unanimous decision would be 
"Exercise." It has a harsh, energetic 
sound which clanks on my delicately 
attuned tympanum and shudders 
through my Iragile frame. Just men- 
tion the word, "Exercise" to me, and 
my sleep is haunted for days with 
niglitmares of chapped l^nees and 
red noses amidst hocl'cey-sticks and 
tlie snows of November or mussed 
shorts and stringy hair in the sun 
and sweat of August. 

This neurosis, if neurosis it be. can 
best be summed up in a motto I have 
talven for my own — Calvin Coolidge's 
immortal remarlv. "I do not choose 
to run." Life is too short, I muse in 
my more reflective moments, to has- 
ten its end by running to meet it. 
All the vicious family of tennis balls, 
golf balls, pucks, battle-dores and 
shuttlecocks, marbles, basket-mush- 
and volley-balls require much too 
vigorous attention for me ever to 
cultivate a friendship with them. 
And liorses are almost extinct in 
this mechanized world, and water is 
cold and wet, and ice likewise, only 
colder. Besides, my legs bow in rid- 
ing breeclies, and my anlvles bend on 
skates, and in a bathing suit — well! 

I eschew completely athletics, and 
in the teiin, as I use it, are includ- 
ed activities other than those pic- 
tured in the sport section of col- 
lege yearbooks. I will not, for ex- 
ample, be a party to jitterbugging. 
nor will I fight to maintain my place 
in a line. I am dead set against bridge, 
not only because of the amount of 
concentration necessarily involved, 
but also on account of the amount 
of energy unnecessarily expended. 
The player who is dummy, which is 
usually me, has to shove back her 
chair, get up, empty the ash-trays, 
fill up the candy-dish, sharpen the 
pencil, get drinks for the other three 
and make intelligent comments on 
the progress of the game. At a party, 
there is a constant hegira from table 
to table, and you no sooner get com- 
fortably settled in a chair that fits 
you properly and with 'companions 
that please you immensely, than you 
have to arise and move to one of 

those despicable folding chairs from 
the undertaker's and a partner who 
will talk of nothing except finesses 
and void suits. But more than this: 
my intuitive and involuntiiry anti- 
pathy towards athletics goes so far 
that I would rather be caught playing 
mumblety-peg than reading the 
sport pages. 

Those pictures in the Sunday ro- 
togravures of mass calesthenics — all 
black and white and windmilled 
arms and legs, make me dizzy. They 
also make me sore. There was a 
time wlien I, too, engaged in group 
exeixises — under duress, of course — 
and was a cog in the wheel lefts and 
column rights and arms front. It 
got so I could scarcely descend staii-s 
for two days after gym, and bending 
to tie my shoe-laces was remin- 
iscent of the agonies of the Spanish 
Inquisition. And what was it doing 
for me, I queried. What was I get- 
ting out of it? Nothing; so I stop- 

Since then, I have disciplined my- 
self to think only on comfort and to 
act only purposefully. I lead a Spar- 
tan life, my only recreation being in 
reading, eating, talking, and indulg- 
ing in my sole sport — seeing liow 
many expensive hats I can try on 
without a clerk's accosting me. 
Therein is more cunning and more 
excitement than is to be found in 
an eternity of your soccer and your 
wrestling. Leave me my hat de- 
partments, and you may have all 
the tennis rackets from here to Wim- 
bledon. I'm sure I don't want them. 





Page Six 


January 17, 1940 

Brave Professors Turn Dramatic Again 
As Rehearsals for Entertainment Begin 

Cheer up children! Exams are al- 
most here. The faculty is beginning 
to look a bit complacent over the 
prospect all ready, and we are feel- 
ing sadder than we should as soon 
alter Christmas, but our day will 

At the present wi-iting the date for 
our great revenge is set at February 
10, 1940. Yes, it's the day when the 
faculty entertain us, and we laugh 
and laugh and laugh. Just how the 
custom started no one seems to 
know, but by some trick of fate the 
faculty let themselves in for a dan- 
gerous exhibition of their talents 
right alter exams. Courageous, 
don't you think? 

Two years ago some of the more 
stalwart of our stern professors fell 
to pondering the matter and decided 
that indeed it was a risky enterprise; 
and rather undignified to boot. The 
students reluctantly leapt into the 
breach, and turned back the tide of 
battle. "All right, don't cry," they 
said. "We'll do it." The faculty 
relaxed in peace, but we notice they 
made no bones about being ready, 
willing and able to perform for them- 
selves last year. Take-offs are fun- 
nier when one is on the doin,g, rather 
than the receiving side. Yes, two 
years ago we took off the faculty, and 
last year tliey showed us how we 
look. This year they will again per- 
form for our edification. 

There has been much discussion 
pro and con and the results indicate 
a preference for faculty monkey- 
shines. We did a little snooping and 
inquiring and have come out with 
the results, which we here and now 
print for your perusal, and for the 
silencing of any more arguments. We 
would have inore conclusive results 
if more people would make up their 
minds what they want, but you can't 
have everything. 

We had poor luck trying to pin 
canny Dr. Wallace downi to a definite 
statement, but he straddled the fence 
with a grace that should land him a 
circus job any day. 

"I thinlv the student body should 
give it," he said, "It would save the 
faculty a lot of work. But, on the 
other hand, the students get a new 
light on their teachers when they see 
them perform. Good for the teach- 
ers too — draws them nearer to the 

Dr. Evans is a diplomat too, and 
she puts it about as neatly as any- 

one could. "It's a 50-50 proposition. 
It should rotate," she told us, as we 
gulped and wondered if maybe a new 
tradition was being born before our 
eyes. We didn't lilve the idea too 
well because this would be our year 
to entertain under that system, but 
we quietly glided away in our po- 
litest "handle all diplomats with 
care" manner to seek greener fields. 

It was a faculty member, well al- 
most, who made our souls light again. 
Miss Mowry, who played the white 
rabbit last year and had beautiful 
ears, spoke right up. "By all 
means the faculty should give the 
entertainment. Besides we owe it to 
the students, and besides all that, 
it's fun." 

An opinion at last! We were so 
pleased that we retired to the dormi- 
tory to rest, and there we learned 
what "We the People" thinly. Mocky 
Anderson, another one of those tact- 
ful people who believes in share-the- 
wealth plans, thinks a 50-50 plan is 
the ansvi^er. Most of the students, 
however, are in favor of having the 
faculty do the work. 

Our president, Peggy Christy, true 
to the dignity of her office, holds that 
tradition, which calls for the faculty 
to carry off the dramatic lienors, 
should be upheld. "Everyone had 
such a good time last year," she wist- 
iully added. 

It remained for Audrey Horton to 
answer what seems to be the princi- 
ple faculty objection to the program. 
"Why," demanded a professor, 
stretching his long legs under the 
seminar table, and brushing his brow 
with a nervous hand, "Why do you 
want to see us make fools of our- 
selves. It would be different if ^ve 
were actors, but some of us aren't." 

Audrey knows why. She says, 
"You have no idea what the faculty 
can do until you see them in the 
Valentine Dinner program." 

That, briefly, is the reason why we 
have been arguing for faculty enter- 
tainment, and why also we will turn 
out enmasse on February 10th. Away 
from tlie classroom, lecture, and blue 
book atmosphere our faculty is very 
charming and displays unexpected 
talent for whimsy. They are human 
after all, these master inquisitors, as 
all who come to the program will 
find out. 

Teachers have to relax sometimes. 
And that's why we say, "Come to the 
Valentine Dinner." Anything can 
happen and most of it does. 


By Mary Louise Henry 

In looking for a career to follow, 
women are becoming more and more 
aware of the possibilities in the mer- 
chandising field. This afternoon 
when I interviewed Mrs. Stewart, the 
fashion director at Joseph Home's 
I found her well-paid profession is 
more than just a dream. Mrs. Stew- 
art, a striking woman in navy-blue 
and white, talked to me in a quick, 
well-modulated voice. 

Opportunities for Women 

"A big department store," she said, 
"is a fascinating institution. There 
are countless positions open to w^o- 
men, which is as it should be, for 
85 per cent of the shopping is done 
by women. At Home's women write 
the publicity, make the sketches, de- 
sign the show-case displays and work 
with the Personnel Department. The 
high salaries offered to women are 
extremely attractive." 

Manufacturers Set Styles 

Mrs. Stewart went on to say that 
her department has monthly meet- 
ings at which she forecasts the new 
high in fashions to her buyers, who 
go monthly to New York to purchase 
stock. Contrary to the public belief 
according to Mrs. Stewart, it is not 
the public, but the manufacturers 
who set the style. Colors and styles 
are decided months in advance by 
designers, and purchased by depart- 
ment stores. Then the publicity de- 
partment writes attractive copy tell- 
ing the public what is "being worn," 
and early fashion shows feature 
Schiaparelli red, dusty pink, or 
bustles. Sales girls handle their 
stock enthusiastically and intelligent- 
ly, and presto, the style is set. 

As I left the store, which was al- 
most exclusively filled with women, 
I wondered what other field com- 
bines with the glamor of working 
with beautiful gowns and jewelry, 
the practical opportunities for ad- 
vancement and a high wage scale. 


"The Flower Stylists In 



MOntrose 4800 
6026 Center Avenue East End 

January 17, 1940 


Page Seven 

Announcements Set 

Campus In a Whirl For Sports-Lovers In Holiday Season 

Winter Sets Sta^ie 

P('W (ioes Travel injif 

Holidays bring numerous weddings 
and engagements for PCW students 
and faculty. The festivities of the 
holidays are definitely over but with 
the close of the holidays and the re- 
turn to school have come announce- 
ments of the engagements and mar- 
riages of former PCW girls, stu- 
dents and men faculty members. Two 
members of the class of '37 have 
announced their engagements. Betty 
Barron to Robert Colbaugh, Jr., a 
brother of Betsy Colbaugh, '42. After 
graduating from PCW, Betty studied 
for a year at the Katherine Gibbs 
School. Helen Chabot is betrothed 
to Lewis Schwartz. From the class 
of '39 there are two girls who have 
already taken the final step. Betty 
Hobb.s and Dr. Ralph Doughertv 
were married on January 3. Jean 
Doherty is now Mrs. Sanford Warbor 
and is living in Berkley, California. 
Jean studied at PCW lor two years 
and v/as president of her class in her 
freshman year. Mrs. Drew Johnston 
(the fonner Nancy Spear) is now 
living in Cumberland, Maryland. 
Nancy was a member of the fresh- 
man class last year. 

Seniors Get Rings 

Three girls from this year's senior 
class returned from vacation wear- 
ing rings. During the holidays 
Punky Cook's engagement was an- 
nounced to Fred Thompson •who is 
a medical student at the University 
of Pittsburgh. Kay Thoinpson will 
sometime in the near future become 
Mrs. Loyal Mitchel, and Helen 
Cheng is engaged to Raymond Yang, 
a student in the Yale graduate 
school. Helen and Raymond met 
■when they were both students in 
Naukai University in Tientsien, 

Miss Chubb Engaged 

Miss Marjorie Chubb of the class 
of '38 and now secretary to Miss 
Marks returned from Pasadena last 
week wearing an engagement ring 
given her by Mr. John Alden Ran- 
dall. Mr. Randal attended California 
Tech and U. C. L. A. They ha\re 
no definite plans but the wedding 
will take place sometime during the 

Mr. Ebner E. Stickley, professor 
of physics and astronomy was mar- 
ried during the holidays to Miss Ros- 
iland Olivia Horuer. They are now 
living in Mt. Lebanon. 

Hall of us here at PCW don't know 
what we're missing in the way of 
winter sports. Once in a while 
somebody goes to the Poconos or up 
to Canada on her vacation, but most 
of the time we just sit around wast- 
ing weekends and the perfectly good 
chance to stick in a real holiday 
between exams. Did you know, for 
instance, that you can go sleigh-rid- 
ing with real sleighs and real horses 
in North Park? You can rent them 
'or groups of five or ten or you can 
even rent sleds. Aside from the 
sledding, of course there's ski- 
ing by the eighteenth hole of the golf 
course and skating at Lake Mar- 
shall, on Pierce Mill Road off Bab- 
cock Boulevard. 

For those who live nearer South 
Park, there is also sledding and ski- 
ing and skating. The ski-ing is just 
off the fair gi-ounds behind the new 
golf club house on Brownsville Road. 
And if you have any trouble, you 
can't miss a couple of huge signs 
that point to "Sunny Slope." The 
skating is at the swimming pool. Al- 
so on South Side are the McKinley 
Park tennis courts frozen over for 
good skating. 

For those who live in the city and 
don't have any way of getting out 
to the other parks, there is skating 
in Schenley Park's Panther Hollow 
and in Hiland Park next to the 
swimming pool by Carnegie Lake. 
There is sledding in Frick Park, 
and good ski-ing where the old Pitts- 
burgh Country Club used to be. 
Longue Vue Club has frozen over the 
ground around the swimming pool, 
but it is only open to members or 
members' friends. And of course 
there is always the Duquesne Gar- 
dens' indoor rink. Friday at 3:30 
and 8:30 is best and Sunday at 8:30 
next best as far as the crowds are 
concerned; but it is also open at 2:30 
Sunday, and Saturday morning. 

Last year Kaufmann's had a snow- 
train to Kane and as far as we (or 
they) know they are plamiing the 
same thing this year. We'll know 
for certain in a week or so. The 
train last year left Saturday evening, 
with everyone sleeping through the 
whole trip. Then, all day Sunday 
was spent ski-ing and having a won- 
derful time generally — the train act- 
ing as a hotel. Midnight Sunday, 
the train left for Pittsburgh and 
everybody wakened up Monday 
morning — all ready for a nice week 
of work. 

School has started! The carefree 
mornings of nothing-to-do-but- 
sleep are stored away among our 
memories. The grind is commenc- 
ing to grind! In other words, girls, 
come out of your fog long enough 
to hear what folks have been doing 
this happy holiday season. 

Some vacationers really vacation- 
ed — for instance, Alice Provost and 
Lois Wirth who tripped off down to 
Annapolis for New Year's week-end. 
Pretty nice! Another college week- 
ender was Ruth Gracey. Her good- 
time was had at Bethany. Of course, 
college trips weren't the only ones on 
schedule. Betty Eastwood journey- 
ed up to Owego, N. Y. where it is 
\-ery cold, to see her true love; and 
Jane Pierce went to Florida, where it 
is very warm. Speaking of Florida, 
have you noticed Miss Campbell's 
X'acation-acquired tan? Combining 
three trips in one, Margaret Bebertz, 
first went home to Badaxe, Michigan, 
then week-ended in both Toledo and 
Detroit. We hear she had a won- 
derful time. Napoleon, Ohio, is out 
Toledo way and its there that Bar- 
bara Maerker spent her holidays. By 
the way, we hear he's very nice! One 
of the most unusual and exciting ad- 
ventux-es of all was Bizzy Ward's ski 
excursion. It was at Swan Springs 
where the snow is glorious and the 
food, quoting Biz. "is perfect." An- 
other thrill was Allison Meyer's air- 
plane ride to New Jersey — way up 
in the clouds and all thatl We hear 
that Peggy Orr travelled to Balti- 
more and that Miss Walker was in 
Washington. But biggest and best 
vacation of aU was Miss Chubb's. She 
went out to Pasadena — and came 
home with an engagement ring! 

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Pittsburgh, Pa. 

Telephone M.\>-flower 0145 

Page Eight 


January 17, 1940 


By Betty Crawford 

Oh hummmmmmmmmm . . . back again to books 
and unfinished papers, to work and more work . . . and 
the inevitable bug-a-boo, exams! To add to this helpless 
state is the holiday let-down, which pounces with a ven- 
geance (and often with dire results) upon your care-free 
gay and unsuspecting mental set. So, for that thwarted, 
gloomy, post mortem feeling we suggest some fun, guar- 
anteed to drive away the blues! 

Three After Three, at the Nixon this week, is a gay, 
new musical comedy. Simone Simon makes her Ameri- 
can stage debut, and is supported by such interesting 
stars as Mitzi Green, Mary Brian, Frances Williams, Art 
Jarrett and Stepin Fetchit. This should be liglit enough 
to make you forget about the paper due next week. 

Harvest, the picture which was banned from the 
United States for a short time while the censors thought 
the matter (and the picture) over, and over, is at the 
Art Cinema. It was voted the best picture — foreign 
that is — of the year, and is famed for its beauty. Inci- 
dentally the house receipts from this picture will go to- 
ward the fund for the Spanish refugees in France. Yes, 
the picture is French, and well worth seeing. 

GWTW (which is short for Gone With the Wind, a 
symbol weary movie reporters and newspapers have 
adapted, probably because they got very, very tired writ- 
ing the title out in full for so many months of tedious 
waiting for the picture) will be in Pittsburgh! It opens 
at the Warner Theater on January 26. Need I tell you 
that Clark Gable and Vivian Leigh are the stars who will 
take us through four hours of delightful (and heart- 
breaking) entertainment? The movie version follows the 
novel faithfully . . . and the photography is reported 
as being a masterpiece. In fact, the entire production 
is colossal, to say the least. It might be well to see the 
picture in its entirety when it's in Pittsburgh, for it prob- 
ably will be cut when shown at popular prices later on. 
We're mighty glad GWTW is finally made, and since 
everyone concerned with its production is so satisfied 
with the result, the picture is a MUST on your list. 

Everyone is looking forward to Sonja Heme's appear- 
ance in Pittsburgh. Yes, those who enjoy ice skating 
themselves, and even the people who wouldn't skate to 
their nearest drug stoi'e, if that were the only way they 
could get there, are anxiously waiting to see her revue 
. . . Skating at its best, and she (Sonja Henie, that is) 
will be at Duquesne Garden January 29. This will be a 
good way to cool off after that torrid (and horrid) exam 
the afternoon before. 

At the Pittsburgh Playhouse, starting January 23, 
through February 17, will be An Intimate Musical Re- 
view by Charles Gaynor. This is the only musical com- 
edy on the Playhouse list . . . and, under the direction 
of Frederick Burleigh, promises to be a wonderful tonic 
for confused, after exam states of mind. 

So relax, students (apologies to Kay Kayser) . . . and 
have some fun, as well as some really worth-while 

PCW has always been proud of its honor system and 
justly so, but it doesn't apply only to class work and 
exams. The honor system has its place in athletics, 
too. When you sign up for a sport, you show that you 
are interested in that sport and are willing to support it. 
Or do you? It seems not. When the volleyball teams 
were posted, each consisted of ten or eleven players who 
had expressed their desire to play. Wednesday, the 10th, 
two games were scheduled involving four teams. For 
the first game, one team had five participants and the 
other, four. The second game was forfeited, by a pre- 
viously undefeated team, because they could secure only 
four members of their team while their opponents had 
succeeded in obtaining six, the minimum. If you don't 
want to play, don't sign up. 

I don't mean that you must sacrifice everything else 
so that you can play, but if you can't come, please tell 
the manager or captain of your team. It isn't fair to 
those who are willing to play and want to have a good, 
organized team. Is this going to happen again in the 
basketball season? It's up to you. Let's have a com- 
pletely successful season with one hundred per cent at- 
tendance at the games. 

There. Now that tirade is over. Basketball season has 
officially opened this week. You know that everyone 
who wishes to play on her class team must complete four 
houi's of practice. If you play in the color games, that 
will count toward your practice hours, but it can't possi- 
bly make up the entire four. Therefore, the practices 
will begin this week. Let's polish up that shooting, 
passing, and guarding before the color games start. 

Aha! Madame Sheeza Wiz has hauled out that old 
crystal ball again and we see through the mist, a basket- 
ball tournament that should be a wide open race with 
many close and thrilling games that will merit the at- 
tendance of all you gals ■who don't care to take active 
part. None of the teams shows a decided advantage but 
it should be a close decision between the seniors and 
the sophomores. Both have experienced teams and the 
right type of material that yields champions. The sen- 
iors have a generally well-balanced team with excel- 
lent forwards and perhaps the best guards found in the 
entire school. A sensational forward attack character- 
izes the sophomores but they are a little weak in the 
guard positions. The juniors have the same trouble for, 
while they have good shooting forwards who will cause 
trouble for all opponents, the guard situation is decided- 
ly feeble. Here, again, the loss of Dignan and Gibney, 
stellar performers, has handicapped the team. As al- 
ways, the Freshmen present a problem, for, while they 
have several players with both experience and skill, 
they will not have had the time nor the opportunity for 
much playing as a truly organized unit. Don't be sur- 
prised, however, if they upset one of the upper class 

January 17, 1940 


fage Nine 


By Healey and Higgms 


By Betty Eastwood 

The nights are filled with terror; the days are fear- 
ful too; it ain't from enemy bombers . . . but just those 
books of blue. This verse is sad and dreary, and so no 
doubt are you, so it's stand together ladies! as we hit 
those books of blue. 

And so we escape to the Ivory Tower of the Past 
Season, and leave the future to fend for itself, .'\mong 
the Christmas Conquests were those made by the Dia- 
mond digited gals, Punky Cook and Kay Thompson. 
Congrats! Madeleine Moore has a decorated digit aussi, 
but it's on the right fin (???). Lois Wirth found a Navy 
anchor in her Christmas stocking, and Rutli Gilson an 
S. A. E. pin. Jean Faris found a Delt locket and Cathey 
Carey a Theta Xi pin. It looks like Santa is a Greek. 

Among those who received gifts for the (picture) 
Gallery from their beloveds were Julie Wheldon, Jane 
(Floridara) Pierce, Jane Shidemantle and Betty East- 
wood. From Uncle Sam's Finishing School came candy 
and mittens for Jean Burry, and a bona fide Kaydet for 
Janie Hanauer. And from Massanutten came a dinner 
and dance invite, complete with a lieutenant for Jean 
Wyre. The only two casualties of the season came to 
Jane Chantler and Natalie Lambing. The Delt of Jane's 
life saw her Sigma Chi bracelet, and Natalie parted 
company with her appendix the day vacation began. 

Comes now memories of New Year's Eve. Carol 
Bostwick and Mary Lou Armstrong had New Year's Eve 
parties, and the event of the evening was the meeting 
between the Man with whom Ginny Speer should have 
had a date, and the Pitt Junior with whom she had one. 
Ellen Copeland started the evening playing with an 
electric train, and Phyliss Tross started it in church. 
After that, who knows? Mary Ann Bell escorted three 
men on the eve, and none of them was O. A. O. Betty 
Sweeney and her date ran out of gas (rather the car did) 
on a lonely road near the Field Club on the Eve of Eves. 
Gad, what a nite! (all sentiments herein expressed are 
the writer's own and do not reflect the policy of the 
paper. Ed.) 


Add items: Pete McCall beginning with a cold, and 
ending with a dozen roses. 

Announcement by Cleveland papers of Alice Chat- 
taway's engagement. 

Note — Margie Graham sublimating My Bill. 

Note — Pat Kent and Gene Detwiler and two Navy 

Note — Wease Mclntyre, the medico and the station 

Note — Jean Burchinal in a STUpor. 

Add slogans. Three Loves has Quintard. Phil Keis- 
ter, Nina Maley, Mary Singer. 

Off with the Old Love, on with the New. Peggy 

Double Trouble. Peggy Wragg at the Phi Gam 

The Sparrow's Fall 

War is war, and peace is .something olso .igain, :-.o ihc 
Finns dumped a whole division of the Russian army in 
the lake and everyone thought it was funny. There is 
no denying the military tactics that resulted in the whole- 
sale bath were very clever, and that in such strategy 
lies the hope for the Finnish nation. But the Ru.ssians 
who felt the ice give way under their feet and were 
plunged into the water in sub-zero temperatures were 
probably not amused. 

In America this week four young boys ventured too 
far on to the ice of the frozen Ohio river, and only one 
lived to tell the tale. We did not laugh at this. Three 
young boys with their lives ahead of them, unafraid, dar- 
ing each to venture far out for the sport of the thing; 
what a pity they died uselessly. 

There were many more than three wlio drowned in 
Finland when the ice gave way . . . Fine young men 
these, and someone cared for them even as the parents 
cared for the boys drowned in the Ohio. We had no 
right to laugh at the Russians and to mourn the boys, 
but the mind is slow to grasp mass tragedy. Anyone 
can understand that three small boys did not come home 
to dinner one night. It is harder to think of three hun- 
dred or more young men. Perhaps it is better not to 
try, not to think of so many sad homes, not to visualize 
what each individual soldier was like, and who will cry 
because he does not return. Perhaps it is better to be 
sad because of three small boys while there is yet capac- 
ity for tears, while we are at peace. 
WTiat, Another Date? 

Maybe we aren't properly impressed by ancient his- 
tory, or maybe our teacher didn't do her job well. At 
any rate we didn't know that there was an argument 
about the date of the beginning of the Egyptian calendar. 
Not until Pitt professor, Jotham Johnson announced his 
discovery of the correct one did we even remember that 
the calendar had a beginning. It was one of those things 
that belonged in the corner of our mind devoted to the 
mummy of King Tut, all mixed up with the a detective 
story we read once, and a poem about Ozymandias. Now 
all that is changed. We, and all the children who study 
history, are confronted with a new date. If we are to 
claim to be educated we must put 3251 B. C. along with 
the other telephone numbers of antiquity. It's an awful 
strain, but life is like that. 

Jane Fitzpatrick and M. Anderson are anticipating a 
Cornell week-end soon. 

Tall story of the month — Jean Keister explaining a 
black eye by saying she fell down the stairs, and scared 
the dog, who bit her. We have heard better, and re- 
cently too. 

Well, that's all there is, so we will go now and fix 
things so that all our exams don't fall on the same day. 
We'd rather flunk them at intervals. So we'll meet you 
behind the Blue Book. Happy New Year! 

Page Ten 

THE ARROW January 17, 1940 


... By Ann Hamilton Millciv 4C 

I have olten wondered in this past 
year, now that I have seen Italy, 
what would happen to that beautiful, 
dirty, little country if a stolid, clean- 
liness-loving people ever should take 
control. For the Italians, Italy 
would be no more. For the Amer- 
ican tourists, the excitement over 
the country s frank filth would be 
gone. However, to me Italy's 
'Charm lies not in that naughty-go- 
ing-slumming feeling (somehow I 
just couldn't feel naughty, anyhow, 
about eating hair with my food) ; no 
— to me her charm is in the beauties 
Nature has given her, and in the 
creations of Italy's human hands. 

One afternoon I sat on a rock and 
looked at two other rocks. That 
would be a wasted two hours any- 
"where except where I sat and look- 
ed — the Isle of Capri. The sun shone 
brightly enough to cast only faint 
shadoAvs. The wind was heavier 
than "light," but lighter than 
"heavy." I could see the waves 
break far below at the foot of the 
cliff where I sat, but it was so far 
away that I couldn't hear the sound 
— only occasionally a faint "swish" 
would reach me from a gigantic 
breaker. I let pebbles and stones, 
and finally rocks as big as a man's 
head drop into the water below in 
an effort to get some response from 
the sea. All to no avail. Those words 
of the waters are not meant for hu- 
man ears. But all the while I tried 
to comprehend the incomprehensible, 
to embrace the unembraceable, two 
gaunt rocks stood there in the sea, 
and looked at me. Like huge sen- 
tinels they were; silent, omniscient, 
and omnipotent. They never made 
a sound to me; I never made a sound 
to them. There wasn't even the 
sort of mysterical conversation the 
poets advocate. We just looked. 
Soon, however, it began to rain, not 
where I was, but far out to sea. It 
was a fascinating sight and a most 
peculiar feeling, sitting in the sun 
watching it rain somewhere else. Out 
over the ocean there appeared to be 
black chiffon strips over a pink 
satin slip. Sometimes the wind 
would blow too hard and a tiny 
streak of satin showed through. But 
there was no time to grow poetic 
about the coming rain. After all 
that wasn't black chiffon and pink 

Italy is the country in which to be 
poetic though. There is no harshness 

or heaviness in its Nature. Its huge 
rocks ai'e not frightening and horri- 
bly solid like some of those I saw in 
Germany. Its beauty is beauty for 
beauty's sake. Germany's beauty in- 
spired me to be strong and face the 
world, to do something tremendous. 
Italy's beauty made me glad to be 
alive, glad to be young and in love. 
Germany stirred me. Italy quieted 

Venetian lace, Florentine leather 
goods and linens — you know of their 
fame, of course. I cannot find words 
to describe their exquisite loveliness. 
I can only advise you to save as 
much money as possible before you 
go to Italy, for you'll want to buy 
it all. But there are unbuyables in 
Italy that you'll want to buy. Our 
home would be indeed a strange 
place with Titian's "Assumption" and 
Michelangelo's "Moses' adorning the 
living room. 

And there are other unbuyables 
you'll want to slip in your suitcase, 
not for their beauty but for their 
significance. I yearned for one of 
those signs that are placed in a 
conspicuous place outside every 
church, "Vietato Spumare!" — Spit- 
ting forbidden! Italy is indeed a 
fascinating country. 

I have unJortunately forgotten a 
great many of the things I saw in 
Italy, for we tried to see a whole 
country in two weeks. One ex- 
perience I had however, I shall never 
forget. While we were in Naples, 
the Rex was to sail. Four of us 
went down to the pier to "see her 
off." For an hour we stood and watch- 
ed the third class passengers go on 
board. It was like a Theodore 
Dreiser novel come to life. There 
were old, old women with woven 
baskets, who slowly picked their way 
down the gang-plank. Many pairs 
of dim eyes were made dimmer with 
tears of parting from the fatherland. 
There were young men obviously be- 
lieving they wei-e on their way to 
the land of great promise. They were 
full of confidence, free of blustering 
confidence. I felt so very sorry, for I 

knew there was no place in America 
for these young men, Their parents 
and grandparents stood in admiring 
circles about adored young sons. 
Soon the call for all to go on board 
tore fathers from sons, wives from 
husbands. Slowly the gangplanks 
were pulled up! Sailors struggled to 
get the thick ropes loose from the 
heavy, squatty, iron holds. A long 
loud whistle. We waited and watch- 
ed. Another long whistle, and 
slowly the big ship movea out, pull- 
ed by the tiny tugs whicn T.ere only 
a fraction of her huge bulk. The 
Rex glided majestically forward, 
then, under her own power. It was 
a beautiful sight — a great ship bath- 
ed in sunshine, against the back- 
ground of Vesuvius. Soon we could 
see no more of the Rex, and only 
then did we notice the sobs from 
those behind us who had said, not 
"Till we meet again," but "Fare- 
well" to loved ones. We took one 
last look, then left the pier. We 
were four more serious, four wiser 
young Americans. 

There are so many interesting 
things I could tell you about Italy; 
our wild New Year's Eve when we 
did as the Romans do; another night 
which found us in the most uncon- 
ventional of unconventional night 
clubs, and because the carriage 
driver thought we meant what we 
said when we expressed a desire 
for something unusual. Then there 
was the night two of us got lost 
in Florence, saw much of that 
charming city and made the 
acquaintance of many of her citizens 
'ere we wearily rang the doorbell of 
our pension to waken the harrassed 
manager. And the afternoon we got 
on a bus and said, "Forum" mean- 
ing the Roman Forum. We rode 
and rode; out beyond the city-limits_. 
Then in front of several ugly orange- 
colored buildings we stopped. This 
was the Forum — Mussolini's forum! 

I could go on and on, but I won't, 
for eventually I would have to say, 
"Oh Italy, you are so beautiful — 
when I hold my nose!" 



601 Penn Avenue 

MOntrose 2144\ 

January 17, 1940 


Page Eleven 


by Rcncc Schrcycr, '40 

Only the fresh sunlight, filtering 
through the city streets, denoted the 
approach of spring. Through the 
bus window, the girl could see the 
sparlvle of the sun on tlie wet pud- 
dles left behind by the recent rain. 
The bus moved quickly and stopped 
with sudden jerks at the endless 
stoplights. Each stop thrust her for- 
ward, then slioved her back abruptly. 
She had been riding for scarcely a 
half an hour, but already the close- 
ness of the air, the unevenness of 
movement, the jumble of blurred 
scenery outside the window were 
giving her a nauseating feeling 
where her stomach should be She 
turned her head from the window 
and gazed around the bus; she was 
the only passenger The seats were 
green plush and all alike; there was 
not much there to distract her 
thoughts from him. 

Always the thought of him sent the 
blood pounding through her body, 
brought a sparkle to her eyes, a 
smile to her lips. Always the 
thought of him brought his face be- 
fore her and happiness to her heart. 
She supposed it was naive to feel 
that way, and Leonard did not want 
her to be naive. She had done her 
best to avoid what he called a wide- 
eyed-gaze upon the world; but there 
was so much to see in New Yorl\ — 
the towering buildings, the lights on 
Broadway, the conglomeration of 
peoples from all parts of the world — 
all in New York. 

Her meeting with Leonard had been 
like a page, taken from a story in 
one of the American magazines. She 
had read a story like it once in the 
Housekeeping Magazine; she had 
loved it because the girl and the boy 
had been vei-y happy. She and 
Leonard would have that happiness 
when they were married. 

It had been on the ship, coming to 
New York, that she had met him. 
She had been playing the piano in 
the bar, and he had listened to the 
dignity of the old French Sarabande. 
The slow music had filtered through 
the room and had dragged his at- 
tention from his glass of port wine to 
her. The room had seemed set apart 
from the rest of the ship. Quiet, 
calmness, beauty had clung to the 
walls. It had been different from 
the disturbing quiet of the star-lit 
night outside. He was tall, too tall 
to be sitting on a high stool at a bar. 
His shoulders stooped awkwardly as 

he reached down for his glass. His 
fingers were slender and very long; 
they curled around the glass. Very 
dark eyebrows matched his carefully 
brushed hair, which lay in even 
waves on a well shaped head. His 
black eyes had watched her stead- 
ily. Her white fingers had hit the 
piano firmly and lingered there, 
fondling the glistening keys. The 
dark pink of her finger nails had 
flashed against the black and white 
of the keyboard. Quietly, with no 
apparent motivation, her fingers had 
picked up the rhythm of "Parlez 
Moi d'Amour." He had turned back 
to his glass and watched her in the 
miiTor above the bar. 

She had i-isen, then, and come to 
the bar. A small, slender girl with 
sparkling eyes and a sober mouth, 
her short, curly hair combed back 
from her forehead and left to fol- 
low its own course. She had stop- 
ped there, and putting her hands 
on the marble of the bar. had look- 
ed at the bartender. He had smiled 
and come forward. She had hesitat- 
ed, then stammered and blushed: 

"Un verre . . . wataire." 

He had nodded his head and set 
a glass of water before her. 

She had sat down on a stool and 
drunk thirstily. 

The man beside her had turned 
and spoken. 

"It's a lovely evening, isn't it?" 

She had looked at him and wrink- 
led her forehead: 

"1 . . .1 speak not the Engleesh." 

"Oh. I'm sorry. Vous etes fran- 

"Mais oui!" Her smile had been 
grateful. The conversation had con- 
tinued in French. They had spoken 
of France, of Paris, of the French 
people, of the rough crossing on the 
boat. They had spoken of the French 
possessions, especially of the Marti- 
nique. He had described its beauty 
to her. the beauty of acres and acres 
of sugar cane; the beauty of a warm 
climate with no winters. His French 
was that of the educated, excellent, 
and with no trace of an American 
accent. In a little while, they had 
gone into the ballroom and danced. 
He moved with a natural rhythm 
which was unlike anything she had 
ever known. She had been pleased 
and responded to his charm and to 
his increasing interest in her. 

Leonard. They had had .mich fnn- 
he had taught her to speak English. 
They had danced together many 
nights, far into the morning. He 
had taught her to love New York 
and almost to forget her beloved 
Paris. He had taught her mouih to 
laugh, to lose its frightened, little- 
girl expression. Yes, he had taught 
her many things, but he had not 
taught her to love him. She had not 
needed to be taught. 

It had been almost six months 
now, since she had first spoken to 

It had been a calm night on the 
ship. In the distance, the sea and 
night merged into shadowless black. 
Dance music drifted faintly oi'.t to 
deck and enveloped Leonard and 
Denise. They had stood at the rail 
and watched wave roll over wave in 
an unceasing precision and had not 
spoken. Tomorrow, they would 
dock. Perhaps they would not see 
each other again. The quiet, the 
sweetness, the mystery of the night 
had filled their souls, and they had 
turned toward each other. Leonard's 
eyes had been very gentle as they 
looked into hers. His head had low- 
ered toward hers, then raised sharp- 
ly. Her eyes widened; she said: 

"Excuse me ... I can't help my- 
self, but I love you." 

She had not realized that a girl 
did not make bold statements such 
as that to a man she had just met. 

His hands groped for her shoul- 
ders, then dropped. He turned back 
to the sea. His words had trickled 
out and lost themselves in the night. 

"Denise, cherie, you mustn't." 

"But I do." Her words trembled. 
He had kissed her then, and she had 
been frightened at what she had said. 
He did not say he loved her. She 
thought she understood. With that 
understanding had come a lead-like 
emptiness. She had turned and gone 
to her cabin to relieve the emptiness 
with tears. 

She had been empty then, but 
now, she thought, her love had 
brought her peace. She should never 
have felt differently, for the hot in- 
tenseness in Leonard's eyes had be- 
lied any indifference. He had prob- 
ably been afraid of too much happi- 
ness too suddenly. Her real obstacle 
was his parents. This bus ride was 
taking her nearer and nearer to 
them. Suddenly she had the feel- 
ing of panic that a shy person has 
when he must meet a stranger. I 
will conquer; I must for I love him. 
What can be more convenable but 

Paee Twelve 


January 17, 1940 

that they love me as a daughter. 
Would the bus never get there? 

It had taken her so long to make 
up her mind to go to see them. 
Leonard had urged her so many 
times, ever since he had told her he 
loved her. His eyes had commanded 
her to go. He had said that they 
would adore her. 

"How could they help but adore 
you, my cherie? You are part of 

It was true; they were one, as one 
inseparable being. That was the rea- 
son, she had hesitated. No one had 
a right to be brought into their 
world. It was theirs and theirs 
alone. But she was going. 

Two people had got on the bus, 
but she did not notice. She was re- 
living the delight and happiness of a 
sure and complete love. The bus 
had stopped; she must be there, she 
tlious:ht. It was difficult, not know- 
ing New Yorlv. One rode on and on 
and hoped that one reached one's 
destination, eventually. 

She got up, paid the bus driver 
with money that still felt strange to 
her, and walked out into the street. 
Laurence Avenue. Avalon Avenue, 
was what she wanted. Leonard had 
told her to ask a policeman for di- 
rections. Carefully, she translated 
to herself the correct English sen- 
tence to ask. She should have told 
Leonard she was going to see his 
parents. But she had been frighten- 
ed at the idea. It had taken a sud- 
den decision to make herself get on 
the bus and just go. Even now, it 
did not seem real. A policeman was 
standi"!? at the corner. She hurried 
toward him; she must do it quickly, 
before .she changed her mind. Her 
pren-jred words disappeared; she 
stammered, "Avalon Avenue?" with 
a pronounced question mark. He 
looked at her strangely, taking in 
her brown hair and fair, faintly 
frecltJed skin, her candid eyes. She 
barely heard his answer. 

"Straight ahead, turn left at the 
next block." 

She started to go and stopped as 
he said: 

"Need any help, miss?" 

Puzzled, she answered, forgetting 
her Fnslish, "Oh, non, merci." 

He wtched her as she hurried on. 
Hi« kind face was perplexed. 

"The-e French," he said to him- 

Stranfe, did she look so scared that 
she needed help? But then, Leonard 
said so often: 

"You are so naive, mon amour. 
Your face looks frightened. You 
must not be afraid, for I am here to 

take rare of you." His white teeth 
flashed against the tan of his skin. 
He looked capable of taking care of 
any one. His straight nose, as if 
chiseled by a sui'e hand, always de- 
noted strength to her. His eyes never 
begged; they commanded. 

How she wished he were here to 
hold her arm, to make her feel that 
she had some one that cared enough 
to protect her from this strange city. 
He would hold it very tight, and to- 
morrow five prints would mark her 
white skin where his fingers had 
been. Turn left, the gendarme had 
said. Turn left. She did and came 
to a lovely long avenue with large 
modern houses on either side. A res- 
idential district, they called it in 
New York. The third house from 
the corner. There it was, a large, 
massive, beautiful house. She was 
frightened. No, I must not be; I 
must go. The house looks friendly, 
and tlie people in it ai'e Leonard's 
parents, the people I shall love. 

Long ago, in France, she had never 
thought that she would soine day go 
to see her fiance's parents in such a 
manner. She had, somehow, ex- 
pected to have her parents make the 
arrangements with the man's family, 
to have everything settled for her. 
She had not even considered love. 
One just learned to love her hus- 
band, because he was her husband. 
But she was in America now; she 
must behave like an American, self- 
possessed and sure of herself. That 
was the hard part. She remember- 
ed her mother, saying: 

"Be careful, you get hurt too 
easily. I hope you may learn to 
take care of yourself, Denise." 

She did not need to learn to take 
care of herself, now; Leonard would 
do that. She was walking up the 
stone steps. Each step brought her 
closer to an undeniable fear. I'm be- 
ing naive again. Stop it, act like a 
woman. You are no child. She 
placed her hand on the knocker and 
let it drop against the door deter- 
minately. She turned to look up the 
street again. A small colored boy 
was going past the house on a scoot- 
er. She scarcely noticed him as she 
inspected the lovely, green lawns and 
hedges in front of the houses. A 
nice, respectable neighborhood . . . 
something like her home in France. 
A pleasant feeling of belonging swept 
through her; she smiled as the door 

A large, stout, black woman was 
standing in the doorway. She was 
dressed in a plain black dress with 
white collars and cuffs. Her eyes 
questioned Denise. Oh . . . Leon- 
ard didn't tell me they had a maid; 

I won't know how to act. Her Eng- 
lish deserted her again; she was si- 
lent for a moment. Then, in cor- 
rect, precise words: 

"May I speak with Madame De- 

The woman's smile spread to her 
eyes as she answered: 

"I am Madame Delale. Won't you 
come in?" 

The girl's face turned pale; she 
gazed at the woman's face and saw 
nothing but black skin and the glis- 
tening whites of her eyes. 

"You, Madame Delale?" 

"Yes, and you must be my son's 

No, no, it wasn't true; it couldn't 
be. This could not happen to her. 
She must be dreaming. What a hor- 
rible nightmare! But Leonard was 
white. Beliind the woman was an- 
other black one and a boy, Leonard's 
brother. All black;' horribly black. 
She felt ill, stifled. 

She murmured, somehow, in 
broken English: 

"Non ... I call myself Marie 
. . . Pardon . . . Madame Devile is 
the name I want." 

The black face looked startled, 
disbelieving. Denise did not notice. 
New York was alien; she must get 
out. She was dizzy; a blackness 
buzzed in her head. She stumbled 
down the steps and ran frantically 
up the street. She must get away. 
Her eyes were dull; her mouth was 
no longer child-like. She saw Leon- 
ard's arrogant face before her. 

"Ma cherie, mon amour ..." 

She should have known. He had 
talked of the Martinique as if he 
had lived there a long time, there in 
the Martinique where the negro and 
white race are one. 

She shuddered and ran faster. 

The policeman on the corner saw 
her run past him. His eyes pitied 
her without understanding. 

"Strange sights, you see in Har- 

Let's Meet 

at the 

Debs Corner 

East End Store 
6018 Penn Avenue 

January 17, 1940 


Page Thirteen 


... by Jc-/inne licaley, '41 

The silent night is strangely filled 
with noises of the mind when you 
are listening for a sound that does 
not come. It is dark here on the 
hill, and below the hill there is dark- 
ness also. But the sky is bright in 
brilliant flashes, as the long streaks 
from the search-light cross and re- 
cross the night. The air is cold, and 
the heavy gun between my knees 
is cold, and my joints are stiff with 
rheumatism. My neck is stiff with 
too long looking at the sky. I am too 
old for soldiering here on the hill, 
but all the young men have gone 
away, and perhaps they are already 
dead. In the city below me, the 
people mourn for them, but I say that 
is foolish. I went away once, to the 
wars, and I did not find them bad 
at all. I even died, and that was 
very amusing, for ic was the devil 
himself who came and snatched me, 
and it is so written in the records of 
St. Christobal. 

I was a young man when my com- 
pany was transferred to Porto Rico 
on account of the rebellion in Cuba. 
We were all glad to go, for here was 
a chance to see the world, and to a 
young soldier the world was a wide 
place in which to strut before the 
women in his new uniform. 

We were stationed at San Juan, 
and since there was no fighting, our 
duties were light. Each evening we 
were free. We used to walk, two by 
two, along the wide streets of the 
town, our long capes thrown back to 
show our swords. At the lower end 
of town, the dance halls were bright 
with rush lights beside the door, and 
from inside came music in a strange 
soft rhythm that set the blood to 
boiling. Inside there was plenty 
of good aguardiente to warm the 
palate, and the women were all a 
soldier could want, from dusky little 
negritas to the full-blooded Spanish 
beauties, whom one must address 
always as Senorita. There was one 
in particular that caught my eye. 
and soon I was in love with her. She 
had dark hair that reached her 
shoulders, and lips as soft and red 
as the carmin flower. Her name was 
Marie. And so I was desolate when 
I was transferred to the garrison at 
St. Christobal, which was on the 
seacoast, not far from San Juan. 
Even the fact that I was to be ranked 
as a lieutenant did not console me. 

From the first, I did not like it 
there, and I soon found that I was 
not alone in this aversion. Men 

hated the monotony of the duty, and 
the few leaves issued, kept them 
from seeking solace in San. Juan. The 
castle of San Christobal was a 
gloomy place, and far too large for 
the small company of men stationed 
there. On the north side of the cas- 
tle, there was a cliff which jutted 
about fifty yards into the sea. For 
about a half mile along the shore, 
back of the cliff, a wall had been 
built, so that watch could be kept 
over that part of the sea leading to 
the harbor of San Juan. An ell of 
the wall ran out onto the cliff, and ^t 
the extreme end of the cliff there 
was a sentinel box, of ruined and 
gloomy appearance. There were 
many mysterious stories told about 
this sentry box, for some of the na- 
tives swore it was the hiding place 
of the devU. 

Each day, half of our small gar- 
rison was detailed to patrol the wall 
and watch the ships. We young lieu- 
tenants (there were only three of 
us) took turns of being command 
during the day, and at midnight we 
were relieved by an old guard ser- 
geant, one Hernan Sebastian. 

It was hateful work patroling 
that dreary coast-wall, and the men 
often said that even a visit from the 
devU would be a welcome in the 
monotony. They spoke too loudly, 
I suppose, for one night the devil 
took them up on it. 

I was in charge of the wall the 
night it began. It was raining, and 
the roar of the sea at the base of the 
cliff was like the incessant moaning 
of the damned. I stood in my little 
cubby-hole beside the only exit from 
the wall, and I counted the minutes, 
until the relief should come. Far 
out in the sentry box I could see 
now and then a flicker of light, where 
the sentry smoked a forbidden cigar- 
ette. The wind blew against me, and 
I was wet to the skin by the time 
Hernan Sebastian arrived with the 
relief, and never was I so glad to see 
a man. I gave my bayonet to a man 
(for we were short of rifles in those 
days) and, shivering in my wet 
clothes I went to the foot of the 
stairs to check my men as they came 
off the wall. Soon they were all ac- 
counted for but one, and thinking 
that he had perhaps stayed behind to 
talk to someone, I did not bother to 
hunt for him, but hurried back to the 
barracks and got into a dry uniform. 
I was just losing my second month's 
pay in a game of candido, when a 

message came, ordering me to report 
to the Captain. 

The Captain was a long thin man, 
with a nose like the beak of an eagle, 
and a voice like the caw of a crow. 
He was speaking to Hernan Sebas- 
tian, but when I entered, he turned 
and glared at me. 

"You were in charge of the guard 
on the wall tonight?" he rasped. 
"Si, Senor Capitan," I answered. 
"Did you check each man off the 
wall, after he had been relieved?" 

For a minute I could not answer, 
and feathers filled my throat. I have 
not often been so much afraid since 
then. Finally I knew I must ans- 
wer. "There was one," I said "who 
did not come, but I thought he had 
stopped to talk — I knew he could not 
get past the sergeant — he could not 
steal a rifle — " I stopped as the 
Captain clapped his hands against 
his sword, and my heart fell to my 
boots as I watched the slow red 
mount to his face. 

"It was raining — " I began again, 
but I could not go on in the midst 
of that so great silence. Finally the 
captain spoke, in his rasping voice. 
"Where was he when his relief ar- 
rived to get his bayonet?" 

I must have looked my astonish- 
ment, for the captain did not give me 
time to answer. 

"When the man detailed to relieve 
him got to the sentry box, he was 
not there, nor was his rifle." 

The silence fell again, as I tried 
to bring my thoughts to order. "Not 
there?" My voice was not a soldier's 
voice. "But he couldn't have come 
off the wall without my seeing him!" 
"Exactly," the Captain rasped, 
and my blood froze within me. Her- 
nan Sebastian, who was a kindly 
man, took pity on me. 

"Perhaps you fell asleep?" he said 

"No, no," I answered. "I was not 

asleep. And I swear that no one left. 

the wall before you came. It is quite 


■The Captain was watchin? me 
through narrowed eyes, and he 
seemed impressed by my sincerity. 
Finally he spoke. 

"Something is strange here. We 
will inspect the wall." 

Silently we followed him out into 
the rain. 

When we reached the wall, a group 
of soldiers was gathered before the 
stairway, and they parted silently to 
let us through. Several of the native 

Page Fourteen 


January 17, 1940 

soldado made the sign of the cross 
as we mounted the wall, and as the 
thunder pealed, I found comfort in 
doing likewise. 

The sentry box was opened on the 
Captain's order. It was darlv and 
cold, inside, and very empty. The 
one window opened onto the sea. 
There were cigarette butts on the 
floor, and the captain frowned as he 
saw them. Then he gazed for a 
minute from the window into the 
sea, and spol^e in a low tone to Her- 
nan Sebastian. Finally he turned to 

"There is no way," he said, "no 
possible way the man could liave left 
without your l5:nowing it. Unless of 
course he decided tx. take a swim." 
When no one laughed, he went on. 
"You will consider yourself under ar- 
rest, and you will remain in quarters, 
under guard until further notice." He 
turned on his heel, and I saluted au- 
tomatically. Behind me, I could 
hear the men tallcing among tliem- 
selves in low tones. 

The next week I spent in quarters, 
under guard, waiting for my trial. 
The garrison was not a pleasant place 
to be, even to be jailed. The men 
were sullen, and they no longer sang 
in the evening. Everywhere men 
spoke of the devil, and the old ru- 
mors about San Christobal were on 
every tongue. Then the night be- 
fore my trial, another sentry disap- 
peared from the sentry box! 

It was as before, except that this 
time a rifle was left on the floor of 
the sentry box. I was playing cards 
■with my guard when the news came 
in, and by midnight., searching par- 
ties had covered every possible place 
where a man might hide. It was no 
use. The man was gone, and there 
was no trace of where he went. 

It was unthinkable that the officer 
in charge of the wall that night would 
have let him off the wall, with me 
under arrest on the same charge, so 
I was released to await developments. 

With the men there was much trou- 
ble. The seacoast is a gloomy place 
at best, but now the storms began, 
and all night the waves crashed 
against the shore, and the lightning 
flashed, and men's nerves were 
strained to the danger point. Every- 
where one heard whispers of la garita 
del diablo. IMen refused at the gun- 
point to guard the sentry box alone, 
and so were allowed to guard in 
pairs. The captain fumed and fret- 
ted, but to no avail. Finally he held 
a staff meeting to try and find some 
way to soothe the men, who threaten- 
ed mass desertion. We met in the 
low-domed staff room, all of us but 

those on duty. The captain paced the 
floor for a long while, and then he 
spoke. "Senors, unless we can sub- 
due the rumors prevalent here, we 
shall be forced to disband this garri- 
son, which will be a black mark on 
all our records. I have thought on 
this a long" while and there seems to 
be only one solution. An officer will 
have to patrol that sentry box, to 
prove to these ignorant ones that it is 
quite safe." 

We exchanged glances among us, 
and none of us could meet the cap- 
tain's eye. He continued. "I have 
chosen from among you one, who in 
the excitement has evaded any pun- 
ishment for his flagrant neglect of 
duty." The other officers sighed 
their relief, and my heart fell to my 
boots. The captain was still tall'iing 
" — on continuous night duty for the 
next three weeks." 

It was cold that first night I went 
on duty, and a pale moon glimmered 
behind the clouds. I walked jaunt- 
ily, conscious of the gazes of the men. 
But as the departing footsteps of the 
day guards faded away, I was sud- 
denly very lonely. The shadows 
were dark in the corners of the sen- 
try box, and the moonlight made 
strange patterns on the waves. I 
jumped at every sound, and momen- 
tarily expected to see the devil in the 
box beside me. That first night was 
endless, but I was kept from thinking 
by my fear. 

The first week passed, and grad- 
ually my fear abated. I spent long 
hours, thinking of how much I would 
like to dance, to drink, to kiss. I 
thought most often of Marie. I 
thought sometimes in those long 
nights I would go mad, just thinking 
of Marie. I watched the sea, but in- 
stead of a ship, I saw her eyes, and 
sometimes, I even heard music where 
there was no sound but the waves. 

One night I could stand it no long- 
er. I left the sentry box, and went 
quietly to the cubby-hole where 
Hernan Sebastian guarded the stairs. 
"Hernan," I said, "I can't stay out 
there any longer. I will go mad. I 
will throw myself into the sea. I 
swear I will." 

He came toward me and warned 
me to be quiet. "You will be court- 
martialed if you're found here. Get 
back to your station." 

I was filled with a strange mad- 
ness. "I won't go back. Call the 
guard if you will, but I won't go back. 
Be a friend, Hernan. Let me off the 
wall, just for an hour or so. I can 
row across the bay to San Juan and 
see Marie. Just two hours, Hernan. 
No one will know, and I will be back 

before the dawn relief. Please Her- 
nan, for a friend." 

At first he would not consent, but 
when I had convinced him I would 
not go back on duty, he consented. 
I hired a native fisherman to row me 
across the bay, and soon I was in San 

It was like heaven there, the music 
and the people in the streets, and I 
hurried to where Marie worked in a 
dance hall. 

Pulling my cloak close about my 
face, I entered, and chose a table in 
the corner of the wide room. There, 
hidden in the shadows I feasted my 
eyes on the beauty of the girls, and 
filled my ears with a music other 
than the wave's roar. There were 
few soldiers in the dance hall, and 
no one noticed me as I sat, warming 
my throat from the deep cups of 
aguardiente. It was not long 'til 
Marie came in, and she was as lovely 
as I had remembered her. We danced 
and I told her all the things I 'had 
dreamed of telling her during the 
long nights on the wall. Suddenly, 
while we were dancing, there was a 
commotion at the door, and when I 
looked up, Hernan Sebastian stood 
beside me. He was panting, as though 
he had run up the hill from the quay, 
and his breath came unevenly. 

"I came as quickly as I could," he 
said. The Capitan made a surprise 
inspection tour, and found that your 
sentry box was empty. I swore that 
I had not seen you leave, and already 
the men are deserting. Here — " and 
he pushed something into my hand — 
"you'll have to get away, or we'll 
both be shot. Hurry, and Dios te 

He was gone, and I was holding a 
bag of silver, for that was what he 
had pushed into my hand. Marie 
was tugging at my arm. "I heard," 
she whispered, "and we must hurry. 
My father is sending a wine-cart to 
the dock, to be shipped to Port Talma. 
The boat leaves on the tide, before 
dawn. You must be on it." 

We went out into the street, and 
now the stars were out. The rain was 
over, and Marie was sweet beside me 
in the darkness. "Come with me," I 
begged. She did not answer, and 
soon we were before her father's 
house. Already the loaded cart was 
in the courtyard, piled high with 
hay to protect the wine jugs. I got 
in the back, and Marie covered me 
with hay. Her eyes were soft now, 
and I gave her the gold button from 
my tunic, and the braid from my 
epaulets. Then she was gone, and 
just before the dawn the driver came. 
He drove to the dock, and was passed 

January 17, 1940 


Page Fifteen 

Ithrough the gate without question. I 
left the cart, and just before the 
wine-boat sailed, I booked passage 
from the captain. No one suspected 
an officer who had passed the gate, 
and in two days we were in Port 
Tampa. In another month I was 
home again. I had no family, and 
under another name I lived many 
years without meeting any of my old 
comrades. Then one day in the 
springtime, in a little sidewalk cafe, 
bright with geraniums, I met again 
with Hernan Sebastian. Over our 
drinks we recalled old comrades, and 
I recounted the story of my escape 
from San Juan. He told me that 
after my disappearance, the garrison 
had been disbanded because the na- 
tive soldiery could not be made to 
patrol the wall. "La garita del dia- 
blo." He laughed so that he choked 
on his drink. "We were not sorry to 
leave that place, you may believe us. 
It was far gayer in San Juan, and the 
rest of our stay was like a holiday." 

■*Yes," I said, "but it was a shame 
that the holiday had to be gained at 
Such a cost." 

-What do you mean?" Sebastian 

"I mean the two men who disap- 
peared. It is not possible that they 
were as lucky as I." 

Hernan Sebastian put down hi% 
glass and looked at me. "What do 
you think happened to them?" he 

"I have thought about that for a 
long time," I answered, "and the 
only thing I can think of to explain 
such things is that it really was the 
work of the devil. Sometimes in the 
night I waken with sweat from 
dreaming that I too met with their 
fate. Who knows but what I might 
have disappeared one night from the 
wall, had not things happened as they 
did." I started to cross myself, and 
then thought better of it, for in the 
city one no longer does such things. 

Hernan was laughing again. "Oho 
ho, ho," he roared. "So you too were 
among the stupid ones who believed 
our little tale about the devil? That 
is very funny, camarada, very funny 
indeed." The church-bells chimed 
the noon hour, and Hernan Sebastian 
rose quickly to his feet. "I must go 
now," he said. "The war has called 
my sons away, and I dig on the earth- 
works for enough dinners to keep 
my daughter and me from starving 
too quickly." He spat on the ground. 
"These wars," he said, "are no longer 
for the soldiers. Even the city fights. 
It is stupid." 

He started to leave, and then sud- 
denly he was laughing again. "I al- 

most forgot your devil," he said. 
"Meet me here at noon tomorrow, 
and I will show him to you." He 
laughed so hard that he had to hold 
his sides, and I watched him walk 
down the street, the tears streaming 
from his eyes. 

The next day as I walked in the 
city, the planes came over from the 
south. 1 and those about me took 
shelter behind the sandbags by the 
bridge. When it was over, I went on 
toward the restaurant, and the side- 
walk cafe. It was no longer there, 
but the dust was still rising from the 
fallen masonry. Here and there I 
could see patches of color where the 
red geraniums lay among the broken 
pottery. The church was still stand- 
ing, and I heard the chimes marking 
the noon hour. 

Now I am alone on the hill, with 
my head turned toward the sky where 
the floodlights dim the stars. The 
gun between my knees is cold, and 
below me in the city many people 
mourn. I do not think I will be here 
long. Twice I have missed my meet- 
ing with the devil, and it is not likely 
that I shall be spared a third time. 
But I am not afraid. The air is cold, 
but 1 am warm with the thoughts of 
my youth, and when I look into the 
star-paths beyond the floodlights, I 
can see the twinkle of Marie's bright 
slippers, and my own feet move to 
join her in el baile. 

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Sky Hooks 

Versatile Marie McSwigan, report- 
er for the Pittsburgh Press, is at it 
again. This time she has written 
the biography of John Kane. Kane, 
she says, was one of the most sig- 
nificant American painters of the last 
quarter century. 

Sky Hooks is an ingenuous srury 
of a Scottish immigrant who came 
to Pittsburgh in his early twenties 
and worked at anything and every- 
thing. Artist Kane, was self taught 
and had his first experience painting 
houses and box cars. Nevertheless, 
after three attempts he "made" the 
International Art Exhibition. 

Charlotte Bronte 

One does not have to be a lovei 
of biography to enjoy Edward F. 
Benson's Charlotte Bronte. Here is 
a biography which reads like fic- 
tion. The moors, the dingy par- 
sonage, the loneliness, even the 
characters — an habitual drunkard,. 
two imaginative sisters clinging to- 
gether against the practical minded- 
ness of their older sister — make up 
a situation which is almost unreal. 
Yet it is real and Mr. Benson treats 
it in a manner which satisfies fans 
of Emily, Charlotte and Ann when 
they search through its pages for ex- 
planations of the writings of these 
three famous sisters. 

Especially commendable is the 
lionesty with which Mr. Benson has 
used the letters and facts he could 
gather for his work. He tries to 
present a true account of the in- 
credible Bronte family, and he suc- 
ceeds admirably. 

Our Monthly Reminder — 

Patronize Your Music Store 


Hacke Building 
207 Fifth Ave. Pittsburgh, Pa. 


Johnston The Florist 

MOntrose 7777 

5841 FORBES ST. 
HAzel 1012 

Page Sixteen 


January 17, 1940 

Final Examination Schedule — First Semester 

9 A.M. and 2 P.M. 





Jan. 25 

Jan. 26 

Jan. 27 

Jan. 29 

English 1 

English 111 

Accounting 3 

French 1 

a & b 

French 121 

History 1 

a & b 

c & d 

German 1 

a & c 

French 3 

English 5a 

History 105 


a, b, c 


Latin 1 

Education 1 

French 5 

Mathem. 5 

a & b 

Music 111 

Chem. 3 

Philosophy 1 

Psychology 101 

Spanish 1 

Speech 7 

Biology 101 

Chemistry 107 

Art 1 

English 3 

History 122 

French 111 

English 119 

Music 1 

German S3 

French 109 

Relig. Educ. 3 

History 118 

History 124 

Latin 101 

Mathem. 1 





Jan. 30 

Jan. 31 

Feb. 1 

Feb. 2 

Sociology 1 

Biology la 

Economics 1 

Astronomy 1 

a & b 


a & b 

Education 101 

Speech 101 

Stenog. 103 

Education 3 

Geology 1 

Mathem. 101 

History 111 

Field Trip 

Mathem. 3 
Music 3 
Phys. Ed. 104 
Spanish 3 

Biology 105 

Chemistery 1 

Psychology 1 

Chemistry 105 

Economics 3 

Economics 101 

a & b 

Chemistry 109 

English 115 

English 129 

Psychology 107 

History 103 

French 107 

German 107 

Sociology 107 

German 3 

History 115 

Psychology 103 

Greek 3 

Music 107 

Latin 107 

History 109 

Stenog. 101 

Music 103 

History 120 

Italian 3 
Physics 1 & 3 


Art — Mr. Rosenberg 
Biology Seminar 
Biology 3 
Biology 103 
Biology 107 
Chemistry Seminar 

Education Seminar 
English 103 
English 105 
English 109 
French 119 
French 123 

German 109 
Music 105 
Sociology 101 
Spanish 109 
Speech 9 
Typewriting 1 

Vol. XIX 

Pennsylvania College for Women, Pittsburgh, Pa., February 21, 1940 

No. 5 

Page Two 


February 21, 1940 


Pennsylvania College for Women 
Pittsburg-h, Pa. 

Siibscriptifin $1.00 per yetii' in advance 

1939 Member 1940 

P^ssociafed Gollefeide Press 


National Advertising Service, Inc. 

College Publishers Representative 
420 Madison Ave. New York. N. Y. 

Chicago ■ Boston • Los Angeles • San FRANCtsco 

Editorial Staff 

Co-Editors Betty Eastwood. '40 

Rachel Kirk. '40 

Business Manager Ruth Fite, '40 

News Editor Nancy Over, '40 

Assistant News Editor Dorothy Evans. '42 

Feature Editor Jo Anne Healey, '41 

Literary Editors Renee Schreyer, '40 

Jean Miller. '42 

Copy Editor Claire Stewart. '42 

Make-up Editor Katherine Rutter. '40 

Assistant Make-up Editor Margaret Wragg, '43 

Staff Photographer Catherine Thompson. "40 

Proof Readers Joan Hammer. '41 

Louise Haldeman. '43 
Claire Horwitz. '43 

Copy Readers Rosemarie Filippelli, '43 

Marjorie Noonan, '43 
Faculty Advisor Hazel C. Shupp 

News Staff 

Jane Evans, Dorothy Marshall, Lucille Cummins. Jean Sweet, Marion 
Rowell. Helen Waugh. Margaret Anderson. Mary Ann Mackey. Betty 
Ann Morrow. Marian Lambie. 

Feature Staff 

Helen Schellkopt. Mildred Stewart, Jean Burchinal, Althea Lowe, 
Betty Brown, Mary Louise Henry. Jeanne Anne Ayres, Mary Evelyn 
Ducey. Janet Ross. Betty Crawford. 

Business Staff 

Betty Bacon. Alison Croft, Peggy Dietz. Jane Fitzpatrick. Eleanor 
Garrett. Virginia Gillespie. Marjorie Higgins. Beth Howard, Jane 
McCall. Mary Jane McCormick, Nancy Scott, Gloria Silverstein, Mary 
Singer. Bizzy Ward, Lois Wirth. 

jottings in the margin 

Winter scene . . . the white ground, the white sky 
and tlie whirling white air between . . . Nobody-loves- 
me-department . . . that epidemic of engagement rings 
has been followed by a veritable plague of guest-towel 
embroidering . . . From usually reliable sources, we 
hear that Dr. Spencer had two dishes of ice cream at 
the Valentine dinner, one in the dorm and the other 
in the cafeteria . . . Churlish snarls . . . does some- 
one pound on the radiator pipes with a very large ham- 
mer every time we have a chapel speaker? . . . and 
wasn't there a rule about closing the doors just before 
proceedings begin? . . . The sound of last week's snow 
crunching under foot is something we haven't heard 
since fourtli grade . . . Apropos of Dr. Mann's speech 
... is the heart of youth possessed of an unquenchable, 
undefeatable something? ... or are we more interested 
in a safe, comfortable life? 

A Blow for Liberty 

Among the more deeply satisfying of PCW's many 
charms is the pleasant relationship which exists between 
faculty and students. Ours is no stuffy administrative 
and teaching staff which peers down disapprovingly 
upon the lowly collegian from the lieights of its superior 
knowledge and experience. 

As a case in point, consider the faculty Valentine Din- 
ner entertainment. It is doubtful that any other smgle 
factor contributes so much as does this annual affair to 
the feeling of rapport between professors and students 
which serves to make classes at PCW more than mere 
dispensaries for facts. This is the most beneficient result 
of the February show, but there are others. 

For the members of the faculty and administration, 
besides proving at one fell swoop their good sportsman- 
ship and excellent sense of humor, the Valentine enter- 
tainment offers opportunity for a display of often-un- 
suspected talents for playwriling, acting, singing and 
dancing, and set-building. (We point with praise to the 
elaborate production details of this year's show, the 
chorus work of the Three Little Fishes and the operatic 
technique of Dean Marks and Dr. Hunter.) It also fre- 
quently shows an amazing acquaintance with activities 
not purely academic, and, of course, no vehicle was ever 
better devised for the gentle ridiculing of those student 
traits which are ridiculous. 

For the appreciative student audience, the faculty play 
is an oasis in the year-long desert of continually provid- 
ing the college amusement, and it may also be considered 
a needed indication of the professorial innate humanity 
just before grades are given out. Most important of all, 
the violent merriment provoked by the Valentine play 
serves as Aristotle's "catharsis of the soul," sending stu- 
dents back to classes with refreshed outlooks and open 

These are all desirable advantages, and it is the 
policy of The Arrow that they could not be produced by 
any other agency than the faculty entertainment. Hold- 
ing these truths to be self-evident, the last song of "Tlie 
Three Little Fishes Go to College" came as distinct 
shock to us. The faculty's lyrical suggestion that it was 
the students' turn next year is not only inhumian, it is 
iconoclastic and un-American. Haven't the students 
enough to do at exam-time? Aren't too many of the tra- 
ditions of our forefathers being broken? Shouldn't the 
faculty be given one chance to show its manifold talents? 

Yes! Yes! comes the answer of The Arrow, voice of 
the student body. Never, so long as the Bill of Rights re- 
mains inviolate will this paper cease to strike a blow 
for liberty, to demand freedom from the oppression of 
being forced to produce a show of Valentine entertain- 
ment caliber a week after exams, to seek for every p'art 
of PCW posterity the great fundamental privileges en- 
joyed by their predecessors, foremost among which is 
the right to witness at least four of the faculty Valentine 

In a world of rapidly shifting values, we must cling 
to a few of the principles which made our country great. 

February 21, 1940 

PCW Enters New 
Field of Research 

One of the great challenges of 
modem civilization is the problem 
of unadjusted people. It has caus- 
ed a large percentage of business 
failures, lack of friends, broken 
homes and criminal cases. It is re- 
sponsible for the fact that over half 
of the persons in the United States 
hospitals are mental cases. 

To meet this challenge, under the 
initial encouragement of the state 
advisory group and its chairman, Dr. 
William C. Sandry, the Proposed Ad- 
justment Institute of Pittsburgh has 
been organized. Gerald D. Whitney 
is chairman of the institute, and Dr. 
Spencer is chairman of the Board 
of Advisors. 

PCW is the administrator of the 
funds to be used and of the institute 
program. It is planned to select the 
seventh grade of a junior high sclfool 
in Pittsburgh for the first experi- 
mentation. There will be home- 
room programs several times a week 
which will contain personal applica- 
tion to the students' needs and will 
be followed up by individual confer- 
ences. Teacher training and parental 
education are also a part of the pro- 
posed program. 

The plan is an outgrowth of work 
begun years ago in Pittsburgh 
schools with the guidance programs 
and placement advisors. The follow- 
ups of graduate students have aided 
this work. But it is evident that the 
schools have not yet succeeded in 
teaching students how to get along 
with people or how to handle situa- 
tions arising in every day life. It is 
to accomplish this that the proposed 
institute has been formed. 

A tentative decision has been made 
to carry on the experiment for five 
years, and it has been estimated that 
it will cost fifteen thousand dollars 
a year. The money has been grant- 
ed by the Carnegie Foundation, and 
PCW is the recipient of this import- 
ant trust. 

Dr. Spencer is highly enthusiastic 
about the project. A mental hygiene 
course will be given at PCW in con- 
nection with the plan. Dr. Spe.icer 
hopes that eventually the students 
will be more capable of working with 
children in helping them to become 
mentally adjusted and that they will 
learn how to instruct students, whom 
they may later teach, in forming 
character and personality. 


Benefit Bridge Aids 
Far Eastern Relief 

All PCW will be there! That's the 
hope of the committee planning the 
benefit bridge-tea for the Far East- 
ern Student Relief Fund this aft- 
ernoon from 2:00 o'clock until 5:00 
o'clock in Woodland Hall. Games 
other thun bridge being planned lor 
the benefit, tickets for which are 
thirty-five cents. 

Before the war in China there were 
one hundred and fourteen schools 
but now there are only eight stand- 
ing as they were when the war 
started and thirty-four have been 
completely ruined by bombs. Pro- 
ceeds Irom today's benefit will go 
to the Far Eastern Student Relief 
Fund to provide sheltei', clothing and 
food for Chinese students. 

The committee planning the bridge 
tea has for its chairman Betty Craw- 
ford, '40. Members are: Ruth Sue- 
cop, '41, Mary Jane Daley, '41. Elea- 
nor Offill, 40. Peg Matheny, '42, 
Gladys Cooper '42, Shirley Clipson, 
"41, Mary Kerr, '41, Janet Ross, '43, 
and Colleen Lauer '43. 

Page Three 

Alumnae Council Plans 
Meeting in March 

The 1940 meeting of the PCW 
Alumnae Council will be held on 
campus, Saturday, March 9. There 
have been about 150 invitations is- 
sued to officers of classes and mem- 
bers of executive boards. These rep- 
resentatives will meet in the chapel 
with registration at 9:30. At this 
meeting there will be representatives 
from classes as lar back as 1873. 

Following the registration there 
will be an opening address by Miss 
Marks who will extend the welcome 
of the school. An outstanding part of 
the morning program will be the 
Student Government Meeting at 
which the representatives will be 
entertained with a student sing. 
After this part of the program, they 
will go to a business meeting after 
which they will be guests of the 
college at a luncheon in Woodland 

The highlight of the day will be 
the afternoon meeting which will be 
in charge of Dr. Spencer, who will 
conduct a panel discussion with the 
members of the faculty on extra- 
curricular activities. The day will 
be concluded with the serving of tea 
in Woodland Hall. 

Coiiiniittee Chooses 
Prom Orchestra 

Dance Features Music 
Of Bunny Berigan 

Bunny Berigan, well-known or- 
chestra leader, whose theme song is 
"I Can't Get Started," will play for 
the Junior Prom, Louise Caldwell, 
Prom Chairman, has announced. 

Louise Caldv/ell's committee is 
composed of members from each of 
the four classes. Inez Wheldon is 
the senior inember, Elaine Fitzwilson 
the junior, Margaret Graham the 
sophomore, and Cythia Kuhn the 
freshman member. 

The Prom will be held March 1 
from nine till one, in the ball room 
of the Twentieth Century Club, 
which v/ill be decorated with iems 
and white candles. The theme of 
the dance will be a Candlelight Ball. 

During the evening there will be a 
Grand March which Louise will 

In the receiving line will be Louise 
Caldwell, Miss Marks, Dr. and Mrs. 
Spencer, Mrs. Robert D. Campbell, 
Miss Shields, who is the Junior Class 
Advisor, and Peggy Christy, SGA 

The Patrons and Patronesses will 
be Mr. and Mrs. Earl B. Collins, Miss 
Marion Griggs, Miss Helen Calkins, 
Mr. and Mrs. E. J. Doutt, Mr. and 
Mrs. E. K. Owens, and Miss Doro- 
thy Andrew. 

Breaklast will be served for the 
dormitory students in Woodland 
Hall from one-thirty until two 

On the day following the Prom, 
March 2 the Tea Dance will be held. 
Each year Lambda Pi Mu, the Social 
Service Club, gives this dance and 
the proceeds from it are given to 
the loan fund. In 1929 Lamda Pi Mu 
established the first loan fund which 
has increased each year and has been 
used by many of the students. 

Ches Walters will play for the 
dance which will be held in the 
dormitory, Saturday afternoon from 
three till six. 

Madge Medlock is chairman of the 
dance and her committee is com- 
posed of Jeanne Ann Ayres '41, Beth 
Howard '41, Gladys Patton '41, Ruth 
Strickland '41, Ruth Succop '41. and 
Helen Mar Stevenson '40. 

Chances for the ten dollar cash 
prize and merchandise checks re- 
deemable at Kaufmann's and Home's 
are being sold by members of 
Lambda Pi Mu. 

Page Four 


February 21, 1940 

Dr. Spencer Announces Campaign to Raise $1,500,000 
For New Buildings and Increased Endowment 


Proposed New Administration Building 

Plans for a campaign to raise $1,- 
500,000 to erect new buildings and 
to increase the endowment fund of 
PCW were recently announced by 
Dr. Herbert L. Spencer. 

Mr. Artliur Braun, chairman of 
the Board of Trustees of PCW, is 
directing the campaign to raise 
seven hundred and twenty-five thou- 
sand dollars for new buildings and 
seven hundred and twenty-five thou- 
sand for the endowment fund be- 
cause the returns on the present fund 
have decreased from six per cent to 
three per cent. A business office has 
been opened in the Farmers' Bank 
BuiMing in downtown Pittsburgh for 
the duration of the campaign. 

The building plans show a modi- 
fied quadrangle larger in size than 
the area between the present build- 
ings. The new buildings will be of 
Georgian Colonial architecture, sim- 
ilar in style to the library and sci- 
ence buildings. Each building will 
have a distinct personality of its 
own, and at the same time the com- 
plete plan will have architectural 
unity. The buildings will not only 
be architecturally beautiful, but use- 
ful as w'ell, in that they will be con- 
veniently and centrally located on 
the quadrangle. 

The plans call for: 
1. A swimming pool and a new 
gymnasium which will serve not 

only for athletics but also as an 
additional place in which to have 
dances, supplementing the Social 

2. A new auditorium and chapel 
which will seat 800 persons — 600 
downstairs and 200 in the bal- 
cony. The stage will have elec- 
trically controlled "drops." The 
Social Center which will be in 
the basement of this building, 
will provide a recreational center 
for dormitory and day students. 
Most of the school dances will 
be held in it. 

3. Three connected buildings will 
house the administration offices, 
recitation rooms, and the depart- 
ments of art, speech and music. 

4. New steps will be constructed to 
replace the wooden ones that we 
now have. On Woodland Road 
there will be a driving-off place 
where persons may leave their 
cars, because no cars will be 
parked on the campus. 

The architectural design of the 
buildings will make for a unity and 
symmetry on the campus, which is 
usually lacking in the "hit and iniss" 
architecture of most college build- 
ings. In a setting of shrubbery and 
plants, the college campus, designed 
with the light and beauty of the nat- 
ural surroundings in view, will be- 
come, as Dr. Spencer says, "a sym- 
bol of beauty and culture through 
simplicity of design; it will be one of 
the most beautiful college settings in 
the world." 

A Sponsoring Committee has been 
chosen, consisting of the following 
persons: Mr. Horace F. Baker, Mr. 
Frank B. Bell, Mr. Laurence S. Bell, 
Mr. John Byerly, Mr. Frank Chester- 
man, Mr. C. F. Chubb, Mr. Joseph 
Dilworth, Mr. Robert J. Dodds, Mr. 
Leon Faulk, Mr. William K. Frank, 
Mr. William Frew, Dr. Hugh Thom- 
son Kerr, Mr. John W. Lawrence, Mr. 
P. H. McCance, Mr. C. A. McLin- 
tock, Mr. A. K. Oliver, Mr. C. L. 
Pierce, Jr., Mr. G. A. Price, Mr. 
James C. Rea, Mr. Frederic Schaefer, 
Mr. Adolph Schmidt, Mr. Frederick 
K. Trask, Mr. Harry S. Wherrett, 
and Mr. W. P. Witherow. 

Sally Browne Will 
Speak in Chapel 

On Monday, March 4, Sally 
Browne, '40, will address the stu- 
dent body in chapel on her trip at 
Woods Hole. To illustrate her talk 
on her six weeks' study, she will use 
slides to show the various vertebrate 
animals which were studied. 

Every year PCW awaros a Woods 
Hole Scholarship to the outstanding 
biology major. This lucky student 
then studies for six weeks of the 
summer at Woods Hole, which is a 
Marine Biological Laboratory at 
Cape Cod, Massachusetts. Last year 
Sally won that scholarship and on 
March 4 will try to give us a "pic- 
ture showing just how interesting 
biology can be." 

February 21, 1940 


Page Five 

PCW Debate Group 
Plans Discussions 

PCWs debate and discussion 
groups under the guidance of Miss 
Margaret Robb have made several 
engagements tor the coming semester. 
To prepare for tliese discussions, 
every Tuesday afternoon at 2:30 in 
the large seminar room in the li- 
brary, debaters Ruth File, '40, Jean 
Watson, '40, and Mildred Rudinsky, 
'41, talk over their problems. All 
students are invited to participate 
in the weekly nieetings. 

On February 15 and 20 Ruth Fife 
and Jean Watson had a discussion 
with Slippei-y Rock and Westminster 
respectively on, "Should the United 
States Pursue a Strict Policy on Iso- 
tion?" March 11, the PCW team will 
discuss the same subject with 
Waynesburg College. On March 25 
and 27, the girls will debate with 
Seton Hill and Mt. Mercy on the 
"Basic Principles of the War." A 
discussion on the same subject will 
be held in the near future with Get- 
tysburg and Ursinus. 

On March 5, the freshmen debate 
team, composed of Claire Horwitz 
and Betty Rudman will debate with 
Tech on the subject of "Government 
Ownership of the Railroads." 

Our group has also been invited 
to participate in a Parlimentary Dis- 
cussion on March 9 at Geneva and 
in the Pitt Conference on April 12 
and 13. 

Reverend Berryhill 
Speaks at Seminar 

At the Intercollegiate seminar of 
the Y. W. C. A. meeting on March 
13, the subject under discussion will 
be Christianity. The speaker for 
the day will be the Reverend Mar- 
shall D. Berryhill. The seminar 
will start at 2:00 P. M. 

Elinor Tiel is chairman of the pro- 
gram, and her committee consists of 
Jeanne Anne Ayres, Phyllis Tross, 
Jane Humphreys, Eleanor Gangloff, 
Mildred Stewart, Jean Aungst, Mar- 
garet Christy, Elizabeth Shipley, 
Nancy Scott, Ruth Patton, Mary Bal- 
mer, Betty Eastwood, and Jean 

Also assisting on the committee 
are Renee Shreyer, Helen Hecht, 
Mary Zward, Ann Skalyo, Marian 
Lambie, Mary Grey, Louise Halde- 
man, Barbara Heinz, Virginia Hen- 
dryx, June Hunker, and Doris 

Visual Eflucation Class 
Makes Color Film 
Of Crystal Systems 

The students of the visual educa- 
tion class, in connection with the 
Department of Physical Science, are, 
at present, in the process of making 
a natural color film dealing with 
the subject, "Orderliness In Natui'e." 

The film will contain descriptive 
explanations of the six crystal sys- 
tems and will be illustrated by use 
of natural occuring gems in rough 
and cut stages as well as crystals that 
have been grown in the laboratoi-y. 
In part it will include observation of 
growing crystals in minute stage by 
use of the microscope. 

The minute forms which constitute 
the larger crystals will be exempli- 
fied by models as to show extreme 
orderliness not merely to the mole- 
cule or atom but to the proton and 
electron. These latter particles are 
nature's fundamental building blocks 
from which she builds all her 
crystals, her rocks, her hills and val- 
leys, her continents, her planets, her 
planetary systems, her cosmos. 

Colleges Observe 
Religious Week 

The week of February 12. Re- 
ligious Emphasis Week, was observed 
by PCW as well as the University 
of Pittsburgh and Carnegie Institute 
of Technology. General committees 
in each school were formed by fac- 
ulty members, students, and officers 
to sponsor the programs of the 

On Tuesday, February 13, at 10:30 
the first PCW program was conduct- 
ed by Dr. Robert F. Galbreath, pres- 
ident of Westminster College, who 
used as his theme "Do Something 
About It." At 2:00 o'clock Dr. Gal- 
breath was the leader of a seminar 
in Berry Hall Drawing Room. 

At a general assembly on Wed- 
nesday, February 14, Rabbi Louis 
L. Mann of Sinai Congregation of 
Chicago addressed the student body, 
taking for his subject the impact of 
world issues on religion. 

Dr. Bernard Clausen, pastor of the 
First Baptist Church, closed Religious 
Emphasis Week with an address on 
Friday morning, February 16, at 
10:30 o'clock. Each of the speakers 
presented a different phase of a cen- 
tral theme "Religion in Personal Liv- 

Dramatic Club Play 
Cast is Announced 

Philip Barry's comedy, "Holiday," 
will be this year's joint production 
of the PCW Dramatic Club and W. & 
J. Buskin Club, to be presented 
Thursday, March 14, at Washington 
and Friday and Saturday evenings, 
March 15 and 16, on the PCW cam- 

PCW's cast is headed by Mar- 
garet Bebertz, '41, in the role done 
by Katherine Hepburn in the mo- 
tion picture version of the well- 
Ivnown play and Mary Evelyn Ducey, 
'43, as her sister, Julia Seton. Ella 
Hilbish, '43, and JoAnne Healey. '41, 
will play Laura Cram and Susan 
Potter. The maid, Delia, will be 
portrayed by Virginia Sumner, 43. 

Members of the Dramatic Club 
are making plans to construct the 
two sets for the play themselves. 
With Jean Hill, '41, as stage manager, 
the play production class and inter- 
ested club members are painting 
flats, arranging color sclieme.'; and 
preparing to shift scenery. It is plan- 
ned to organize this group as a 
permanent club within Dramatic 

"Holiday" is a delightful lively 
comedy which has a rather serious 
theme. Julia Seton is a beautiful 
gracious young girl, who is in love 
with handsome Johnny Case, whom 
she met at a popular vdnter resort; 
Linda, Julia's sister is a pretty 
girl, who is very outspoken in a 
clever, witty way; Ned is their broth- 
er, who, because of his boredom with 
life, turns to drink; Laura and Seton 
Cram are snobbish relatives; Susan 
and Nick Potter are two jolly, happy 
carefree people whom both Johnny 
and Linda adore; Edward Seton, the 
father of Linda, Julia, and Ned, has 
for his only love and consideration, 
money, which brings about much 
trouble. Julia's love and Johnny's 
love, as in most plays take many 
ups and down but in the end — Well 
it doesn't end like most plays. 

The cast which rehearses separate- 
ly during the week and jointly each 
Saturday, is as follows: Edward 
Seton, Morris Greiner; Ned Seton 
Harold Perkins: Julia Seton, Mary 
Evelyn Ducey; Linda Setan, Mar- 
garet Bebertz; Johnny Case, Mark 
Thompson; Seton Cram, Paul Say- 
lor; Laura Cram, Ella Hilbish; Nick 
Potter, Gordon Middleman; Susan 
Potter, JoAnne Healey; and Delia, 
Virginia Sumner. 

Page Six 

Music Students 
Give Recital 

The student recital was given Tues- 
day, February 20, at 4:00 o'clock. 
Organ — Prelude, Fugue and 

Chaconne Buxtehude 

Mary Elizabeth Rope 
Voice — Ye Tender Breezes . . . Handel 

Margaret Bebertz 
Piano — From "Scenes from Child- 
hood" Schumann 

The Hobby Horse 
Catch Me If You Can 
Important Event 
Virginia Ditges 

Voice — 

By Dimpled Brook Bishop 

Oh Sleep, Why Dost Thou Leave 

Me? Handel 

Dorothy Carey 

Organ — Hist Du Bei Mir Bach 

Eleanor SchafEer 
Flute — Melodie from the Opera 

"Orpheus" Gluck 

Flute, Ruth Patton 
Piano, Mary Elizabeth Rope 
Organ — • 

Prelude in G Purcell 

Prelude in D Clerambault 

Florence Succop 

Voice — 

La Charmante Marguerite 

Old French 

Cherry Ripe Horn-Scott 

Jean Watson 
Organ — Second Sonata in C Minor 


Grave — Adagio — 
Allegro Maestoso Vivace 
Ruth Clark 
Voice — 

My Mother Loves Me Not. Brahms 
The Orders of Friars Grey, Shields 
Saul Bernstein 

Piano — Revei-ie Debussy 

Sally Cooper McParland 
Voice — 

Botschaft Brahms 

Sonntag Brahms 

Gladys Cooper 


Students See Movie 
Of Modern Dancing 

Motion pictures of modern danc- 
ing and basketball were shown to the 
student body yesterday in chapel. 
The film was obtained by the Athletic 
Association of PCW from the Athletic 
Federation of College Women. 

Dancers famous for their inter- 
pretation of modern dancing demon- 
strated in the film the technique in- 
volved in this form of dancing. 

Alumnae Disclose Plans 
For Enlarging Gift Fund 

Each year the Alumnae Gift Fund 
Committee solicits for its annual con- 
tribution to the James Laughlin Me- 
morial Library. The gift is books, 
which are specially marked by their 

This year the alumnae are seeking 
to enlarge the lund by earning the 
money themselves. Various methods 
are being used, both group and in- 

Two major group events, the pro- 
ceeds of which will be turned into 
the fund are the skating party given 
by the Greensburg Unit, and a play, 
"The Little Cuckoo," to be held some 
time in the near future. 

Individual contributions have been 
made by Mrs. John M. Phillips, 
chairman of the committee, who is 
denying herself desserts, and Mrs. 
George W. Swan, who is sewing pom- 
anders to sell. Mrs. W. Bryce Mc- 
Quiston is baking cookies and selling 
them to her friends and Mrs. Forrest 
Lydic is saving pennies. 

Two members are selling maga- 
zine subscriptions — Mrs. John C. 
Thorne and Mrs. George Provost, 
while Mrs. Leo Jackson is selling the 
World Book Encyclopedia. Mrs. A. 
G. Patterson is designing smocking 
for children's dresses. 

The profits from all of these proj- 
ects will be placed into the fund for 
the library. 

Year Book Goes to Press 

Nancy Ann Cockerille, editor of 
the biennial publication. The Penn- 
sylvanian, announced today that it 
has gone to pi'ess. The engraving 
has been finished and the contract 
for the cover has been let. 

The 1940 Pennsylvanians will be 
given to the student body in May. 

Junior Dinner 

The annual dinner given by the 
alumnae for the Junior class will be 
held tomorrow evening at 6:30 at 
Mrs. George M. Swan's home on In- 
verness Street. 

Besides the entii'e class, Dr. and 
Mrs. Herbert L. Spencer and Miss 
Dorothy M. Shields, faculty advisor 
of the Junior class, will be present. 
A short entertainment will be pro- 
vided later in the evening. 

February 21, 1940 

Beth Howard ISamed 
Regional Director 
Of Conference 

Beth Howard, '41, has been named 
Regional Director of the Intercollegi- 
ate Conference of Government which 
will be held April 18-21 in Harris- 
burg. She will be in charge of the 
preparation of the fifteen colleges in 
this district for the Conference, and 
will conduct a meeting of the col- 
leges of this district at PCW on 
March 17. 

The annual meeting of this Con- 
ference is held for the purpose of 
acquainting students with the func- 
tions of government, with all the out- 
standing colleges of Pennsylvania 
participating in it. This year it will 
be in tire form of a political conven- 
tion with each school representing a 
state and presenting planks for a 
national platform. 

The Conference is divided up into 
committees; Labor Relations, Agri- 
culture, Foreign Relations, Social Se- 
curity, Legislation, Finance, Indus- 
trial Relations, Taxation, National 
Resources. Each school will have 
one vote in the committee and each 
delegate, one vote in the general 
session. The Conference is conduct- 
ed as nearly as possible like the act- 
ual national conventions. At the 
opening session one member of each 
of the political parties will address 
the Conference. 

Chemical Society Holds 
Annual Banquet 

The Pittsburgh chapter of the 
American Chemical Society held its 
annual banquet at the University 
Club Thursday, February 15. Dr. 
Earl K. Wallace, head of the Depart- 
ment of Physics and Chemistry, is 
chaiiinan of this section for 1940. 

Members of the PCW ensemble 
supplied the dinner music, along with 
the Mellon Institute Men's Quartet. 
Featured soloists were, harpist Betty 
Gahagan, and Ruth Mary Arthur and 
Ruth Patton, flutists. Fay Cumbler, 
Sally Thomas and Mary E. Rope 
made up a trio of violin, cello and 

The featru'e of the evening was an 
award, presented by Dr. Wallace, to 
Dr. Edward R. Weidlein, Director of 
Mellon Institute of Industrial Re- 
search. Dr. Weidlein received the 
Pittsburgh award for his distinguish- 
ed services to Applied Chemistry and 
to the chemical profession especially 
in this district. 

February 21. 1940 


Page Seven 

PCW Student Soloists 
Sing at Planetarium 

The Buhl Planetarium has recently 
conferred a great honor upon PCW. 
They have requested the music de- 
partment to supply soloists during 
the month of March for the Plane- 
tarium's daily program, "Tlie Rebirth 
of Life in Spring." 

There are to be three daily shows 
Mondays through Fridays and four 
shows on Saturdays and Sundays. 

The girls cliosen, Jane Hanauer, 
Eilleen Wessel, Gladys Cooper and 
Helen Ruth Henderson, will alternate 
days from the third to the thirty- 
first of March. 

Glee Club Participates 
In Music Festival 

PCW's Glee Club will be among 
the guest schools participating in 
the Grove City Music Festival on 
Saturday, March 16. Tlie featured 
soloist from PCW will be Jane 
Hanauer, a contralto, who will sing 
Standfchen by Schubert. The Glee 
Club will leature Brahm's Gypsy 
Song No. 3. There will also be three 
pieces sung in combine choruses. 

The Festival is a new venture this 
year, and if it proves successful 
enough, it will be continued next 

Well-known Lecturer 
Speaks in Chapel 

Return of Gracious Living will be 
the topic of a tallv by Bonaro W. 
Overstreet on March 18 in Chapel. 
Mrs. Overstreet is a well-known 
poet, author, and lecturer, and has 
spoken to groups all over the coun- 
try on literature, poetry, and ap- 
IDlied psychology. 

Among Mrs. Overstreet's publish- 
ed worlvs are. The Poetic Way of 
Release, which discusses poetry as a 
relaxation, and Footsteps on the 
Earth, a book of verse, which estab- 
lished her as a poet as well as a 

T. Z. Koo Talks 

T. Z. Koo will speak in chapel on 
Tuesday, March 19, according to 
tentative arrangements. 

Mr. Koo is working with the Stu- 
dent Christian Movement in China 
and is in this country seeking to 
raise money for the Far Eastern 
Student Service Fund. 

Career Mart 

By Althea Lowe, '43 

"A successful librarian finds a joy 
in social service and teamwork and 
experiences much pleasure when she 
works with books. She loves variety 
and possesses enthusiasm and imag- 
ination; but beneath it all lies a mind 
that has trained itself to be accurate 
and orderly." These were the words 
of Alice Thurston McGirr, curator 
and supervising librarian of tiie ref- 
erence department of Carnegie Li- 

The greatest advantage of libraiy 
work is found in the variety of the 
kinds of employment which one may 
secure, Miss McGirr went on to say. 
For example, there is work in the 
general lending department of the 
public library where one finds a 
cross section of all library work, but 
where individual problems are not 
emphasized. The reference li- 
brarian meets the individual prob- 
lems, placing emphasis on that phase 
of work. If one is interested in a 
social field, the subject division 
rooms would be of great appeal. For 
one who is interested in periodicals 
and does not mind detailed work, 
there is the periodical rooni to over- 
see. If scholarly interest is domin- 
ant, the work of the cataloguer is 
suggested; for the cataloguer does 
not meet the reader, but determines, 
instead, liow each new book shall be 
used. Then there is always a de- 
mand for special librarians in banks 
and industrial firms where problems 
are focused on the needs of the par- 
ticular library. Work in a hospital 
library would call for a girl with 
scientific interests, while high school 
librarians are given the opportunity 
to direct the reading of young stu- 
dents. Work with clrildren is stress- 
ed in divisions of large libraries, 
while the college librarian is asso- 
ciated with advanced students. "The 
success of every library depends 
upon finding the right person for the 
right place," Miss McGirr reminds 

The disadvantages of library work 
were stated quite frankly by Miss 
McGirr. Slie says that there is 
monotony in answering the hum- 
drum questions which are asked so 
often by the younger students. There 
is also much detailed work in filing 
and in tlie systematic arrangement 
of material. The hours are longer 
than that of the teaching profession, 
numbering forty per week and the 

Book Shelf 

This England 

This England by Mary Ellen Chase 
is a collection of short, descriptive 
sketches pertaining to life in the 
British Isles as seen through the 
eyes of an American. It is written in 
an easy entertaining manner some- 
times verging on ridicule of the 
resolute English traditions. 

The author has very definite likes 
and dislikes and assumes that they 
are those of the average American 
visitor. She is over-critical at 
times but between the lines one 
reads that she respects and admires 
the English in spite of their being 
"a source of American irritation." 
Her comparison of American and 
English psychology is very clever, 
and quite exact, as can be perceived 
within the first few pages of the 
book. Geographical descriptions of 
the country are excellent, giving one 
realistic views of the "best and 
noblest specimens of English trees." 

A Book of Americans 

In A Book of Americans Rosemary 
and Stephen Vincent Benet have 
given an amusing caricature of some 
of the outstanding names from our 
history books in delightfully enter- 
taining verse. The poetry gives the 
characters a vitality impossible to 
achieve in ordinary prose. It is 
heartily recommended as a pleasant 
surprise to any one who has hitherto 
found history dull or boring, and as 
an evening's good fun for all. 

salaries are not so high. However, 
she adds, there is the advantage of 
a month's vacation with pay, and 
for one who truly enjoys this work, 
a large part of the recompense is sat- 
isfaction. The fact that very few 
librarians transfer to other fields 
proves that security and happiness 
are as important as larger pay 
checks in our shifting world. Most 
librarians, who are graduates of a 
library school, are easily placed; and 
if districts -which are now without 
library facilities were supplied with 
such, the demand would grow. 

In order to enter a library school, 
one must have a degree from a rec- 
ognized college and a personal rec- 
ommendation. A knowledge of so- 
cial studies, literature, languages, 
and science is needed. With the 
proper training and love of the work, 
a girl can find one of the finest voca- 
tions in work as a librarian. 

Page Eight 


February 21. 1940 

The Dyed CotnmiUee 

Comes Through 

By Jean Burchinal, '42 

We are becoming fatigued and old 
beyond our years with tlie constant 
rain of historical movies and books. 
Even as a cliild we knew that tlie 
spoonful ot jelly contained an un- 
pleasant pill and we have not re- 
trogressed since then; we are still 
able to pierce through the extreme- 
ly thin coating of glamour and boy- 
meets-girl and detect tlie small but 
unpleasant pUl of history under- 
neath. We resent it. It gives us 
the feeling that "they" are trying to 
put sometliing over on us and there 
is nothing that arouses our ire quite 
so much as that sort of thought, be- 
cause we realize that underneath 
it all we have an extreme credulity 
in matters we Icnow little about. 

We are not just basing our tirade 
upon pure prejudice, either, though 
we have been suspected of that 
crime against logic several times 
(twice convicted under an alias). We 
have triumphantly dragged out a 
reason for our bitterness and we are 
basking in tlie light of unsuspect- 
ed knowledge and smugness. With 
unerring judgement we have discov- 
ered the danger of this cycle and we 
are prepared to lay our conclusions 
at your very probably indiffei-ent 

Think, we say eloquently and with 
perfect mastery of words, of the chil- 
dren! Think, we continue building 
up to our climax, of the complexes 
fostered in tliese innocent young 
heads, as yet devoid of Freudian hor- 
rors, by seeing these complex-fos- 
tering movies and by hearing their 
history - overlaid - with - sex-crazed 
parents discuss these immorally his- 
toric books! Are you thinking? Are 
you impressed with our style? So 
are we, but we're dropping it — it's 
not the initial cost, it's the upkeep. 

We are horror-striken at the 
thought of modem hard-boiled chil- 
dren (they frighten us anyway, they 
know so much more than we do), 
weaned from the old-fashioned his- 
tory books which did not profess to 
have glamour, confronting us with 
the unanswerable statement that 
Louis Pasteur was Paul Muni who 
changed his name and wi'ote books 
later as Emile Zola; that .Jesse James 
was Tyrone Power, an all-around 
good guy (oh, that anybody should 
think that!) killed just because he 
cracked a couple of banks; that some- 
how Alexander of Alexander's Rag- 
time Band was that same Tyrone 

Faculty Dons Mask and Wig For Annual 

My College profs once scared ;nc- 

I disobeyed them never; 
But since the Dean burlesqued the 

Tliein days is gone forever. 

No, it isn't the Revolution — just 
the aftermath of the Prof's Frolic 
after the Valentine dinner. The fun 
began, alter the dorm and day stu- 
dents had left their respective din- 
ners and gathered expectantly in 
the darkened auditorium. The cur- 
tain rose on a scene from the 'Wizard 
of Oz, with the Wizard none other 
than witty Dr. Wallace (Earl to Mrs. 
Shupp), who did an inspired bit of 
ad-libbing when he nonchalantly 
clicked for Minerva. The theme of 
the performance was the naughty- 
cal adventures of those three petits 
poissons Miss Mowry, Dr. Scholl and 
Mr. Collins — all dressed in the very 
latest from Paris. Which explains 
their appearance. C'est la guerre! 

Power (he got around and was evi- 
dently just pretending to be dead) 
mixing it up with plump Alice Faye 
— he later divorced her when he met 
the dame, Loretta Young, (who had 
been the wife of Alexander Graham 
Bell) and built the Suez Canal. Oh, 
the confusion of it all, the thoughts 
of what-is-the-world-coming-to-any- 
way and this-modern-generation- 
heading-for-the-dogs that enter our 
minds! Do you not realize the por- 
tent? Are you still blind to the 

Have we say, relapsing back into 
what we artists call the "grand 
style," (it being easier than we 
thought) — have we not proved our 
point? Must we longer endure this 
corruption of the minds of our fu- 
tui-e statesman? Imagine for one 
bitter terrified moment the future 
statesinan ruling so that he may be- 
come a movie (played by Don 
Ameche who invented the telephone 
under the name of Alexander Gra- 
ham Bell just a little while before). 
Oh, perish the heartrending thought! 
(We only wanted you to entertain 
it for a moment anyway.) 

Join now our League for the 
Preservation of Youthful Morals 
Through Elimination of Historical 
Books and Movies — fifty cents en- 
titles you to keep away from ten 
such movies and books. Give us 
your fifty cents now and know that 
you are contributing to a worthy 

The second scene, in which the 
three little fishes visited the Boggs 
and Buhl Planetarium was dominat- 
ed by some puns of doubtful origin, 
as a result of which a certain 
Shakespeare class is threatening to 
boycott the professor. 

Came next Rain in the Reign of 
Queen Elizabeth, with Miss Marks, 
resplendent in a barley-candy crown 
as Queen Bess. And Dr. Spencer, 
in a most becoming yellow wig play- 
ed the May Queen. The natural dig- 
nity of the scene was somewhat mar- 
red by the May Queen hitching up 
his trousers before he sat down, and 
then losing his crown, leaving the 
audience to wonder, but not in 
silence, what went on behind the 
"Umbrella Built For Two." 

The next scene was Gone With the 
Wind, originally starring Dr. Rhett 
Butler, but due to Dr. Butler's 
absence, the part was taken by doc- 
torette Shupp, who looked most be- 
fetching in a high silk topper. Dr. 
Griggs, in green eyelashes and a 
replica of the May Queen's wig, gave 
a touching performance as the mel- 
ancholy belle who hooked the plans 
for the fortifications. Shh. Shh. 
Shh. Dr. Kinder, as the city slicker, 
was magnificant in checked trousers, 
and Madame Owens, was an r-roU- 
ing, pipe-smoking double for Detec- 
tive Poirot. 

During the interlude. Dean Marks, 
resplendent in and almost obscur- 
ed by an ostrich feather hat, sang 
"Only a Bird in a Gilded Cage." 
Came then a dance by Mr. Collins. 
Both were enthusiastically encored. 
In the fourth scene, the three lit- 
tle fishes visit the Think Factory, 
an exact replica of the students' 
favorite dream. Machines, invented 
by scientist Doxsee turned out A 
themes and blue-books, and correct- 
ly punctuated. Dr. Hunter did an 
admirable bit in which she sang a 
song about a brain. Miss Kerst did 
some excellent imitations of Bergen 
and McCarthy, and Dr. Doxsee 
cavorted around the stage on iiis 
favorite hobby, philosophy. 

In the final scene, the three lit- 
tle fishes, sick of higher education 
decided to go back to the sea, and 
the play ended with the faculty's ex- 
horting the students to give next 
year's entertainment . . . The cur- 
tain fell, and the students went home 
to rub liniment on ribs that ached 
from laughing at the amusing, 
ing, and most appreciated faculty. 

Februai-y 21. 1940 


ir'age JNine 


By Betty Crawford 

There is nothing lils;e a good evening of tun to take 
one's mind away from the liorrible shocks of semester 
grades. If your grades weren't so good (and wliose 
were?), then you might as well enjoy your flunking. 
And if you came through witli flying colors, why, what 
better excuse for some celebration? 

Hitting the higli spots of Pittsburgh first, have you 
heard Lang Tliompson at the Chatterbox? Tlie orclres- 
tra's one of the best tire William Penn lias had for a long 
(or Lang ... if you prefer) time. 'Nouglr said, for the 
combination speaks for itself! 

Tlie Gay Nineties Room in the Hotel Henry has an 
"unusual" atmosphere ... at least it is something dif- 
ferent for all of us who came in with the modern furni- 
ture period. The room takes you back to the period of 
heavy, massive carved furniture, many mirrors with 
ornate gilt frames ... its air is distinctly 1890. A 
pianist is there to play your request numbers . . . and 
everytlring is quite in keeping with the Gay Nineties' 
atmosphere, and feeling. Lots of fun when you want 
something different. 

Naturally the most important thing which comes to 
our minds when thinking of music and dancing and 
wonderful times is our own Prom. The Twentieth Cen- 
tury Club will provide a wonderful background for the 
Candlelight Ball, sponsored by the Junior Class. Bunny 
Berigan's orchestra is so well known that there remains 
nothing to say except to remind everyone to be there 
the night of March 1. And don't forget the Lambda Pi 
Mu Tea Dance the following afternoon. This dance is to 
be a gypsy one . . . with lots of surprises promised. 
Ches Walters' orchestra will play from three until six, 
March 2 . . . This dance has a worthy cause behind 
all its fun, for it is to raise money for the scholarship 
fund. PCW's one really "big" week-end is on March 
1 and 2 ... so why not everyone "let her hair down," 
fall into the swing of things, and really have a grand 
time by going to the Candlelight Ball and the Gypsy Tea 

Our Town by Thorton Wilder is scheduled to open at 
the Playhouse February 27, running through to March 
16. This is a delightful play . . . very, very different 
from the usual type of drama. To begin with there is 
no scenei-y, but it isn't missed at all, after the play gets 
under way. This is one of the experimentations of the 
theater which has been very successful. The play is 
amusing, different, and has some nice bits of philosophy 
running through it. Really, don't miss Our Town! 

Of Mice and Men need.s no introduction as being a 
picture everyone should see, particularly if you missed 
it on the stage. Burgess Meredith, Betty Field and Lon 
Chaney, Jr., are cast in the main roles. Since John Stein- 
beck has so recently become a popular, and much-talked- 
about author, a good movie version of his book is prac- 
tically inevitable. 

We'll see you at the Prom and Tea Dance. 

Monday, the 12th, the Yellow team won a lack-lustre 
victory from the Reds by default and, in actual playing 
the scoi-e was 18-11. The generally sloppy playing was 
perhaps to be expected as this was the first game of the 
season. Peggy Dunseath and Betty Hazeltine put up a 
valiant, though losing, fight with some very accurate 
Vi'ork in push-up shots near the basket. Julia Wells 
was high-scorer, garnering 8 points for the saffron-hued 


Pos. Pts. 

Dunseath, M. . . .F 6 
Hazeltine, B. . . .F 5 

Evans, J G 

Ludlow, A G 

Sweet, J G 


Browne, S F 3 

Wells, J F 8 

Doerr, N F 2 

Lambie, M G 

Browne, B G 

Patton, R G 

— Browne, B F 5 

11 — 

Wednesday, the 14th, brought forth a double-header 
with the Blue versus the Green and the Reds (this is 
beginning to sound Communistic) combatting the Black, 
The first game was lost by the default of the Green to 
the Blue team and the second, while played, was not offi- 
cial since neither team had suflScient performers. The 
official victory of the Blues was rather hollow, for, when 
playing against the members of the Green team who did 
come out and some willing aids from other teams, the 
Variegated team squashed them under a barrage to the 
tune of 24-8. Leading scoremaker was Mocky Anderson 
with 15 "swishes." 

Archer, J. . . 

Ross, J F 

Maley, N F 

Wolf, C G 

Murray, J G 

Janouch, M G 


Pos. Pts. Pos. Pts. 

F Anderson, M. ...F 15 

6 Sweet, J F 5 

2 Doerr, N F 4 

Wolff, M G 

O'Neill, J G 

Browne, B G 

8 24 

The second Iialf of this double feature was a close 
fight with the Reds gathering 22 points to the 20 of their 
worthy opponents. Both teams played with only five 


Pos. Pts. Pos. Pts. 

Hazeltine, B F 7 Black, B F 7 

Sweet, J F 13 Wolff, M F 7 

Evans, J F 2 Ross, J F 6 

Ludlow, A G . , Noonan, M G 

Browne, B G .. Keffer, E G 



Page Ten 


February 21, 1940 


By Healey and Higgins 


By Betty Eastwood 

By rights, this column should concern cherry trees 
Seeing as how this is Geoi'ge Washington's birthday, 

But legends of axes ain't widely read like romantical 
Or so Confucius (and later, Walter Winchell) say. 

Sooooo — Happy Birthday, George, and Heil Confucius, 
and here we go. 

Resume-ing Valentine Day, many and varied were the 
Sweets to the Sweet. Among the legion who received the 
caloric candies were Amy McKay, Eileen 'Wechsler, Helen 
Moore, Julie Wheldon, etc., etc., etc. 

And among those who had it said with flowers were 
Doris Dodd, with gardenias, Ruth Wright was camellias, 
Punky Cook with red roses and Betty Hazeltine with 
Yale blooms. (Also etc., etc., etc.) 

It seems to be a great year for touring, with Mary 
Linn Marks having gone to Lehigh, Ginny Gillespie to 
Cornell, Mary Jane Harter to Dartmouth Winter Carnival 
and Mary Graham and Ellen Copeland to Princeton. 
Great thing, co-education! 

And who said women were the weaker ,sex . . .or 
did someone? Anyway, both Ginnie Spear and Jane 
McClung had tiffs with their erstwhile squires, and soon 
after, both got flowers from said squires. Which would 
seem to indicate sweeping victories, or at least decisive 
gains for the femmes. 

Our congratulations to Alice Chattaway, Jean Bur- 
chinal, and Mary Louise Henry (in order of their class 
importance), all of whom are now eligible to ioin the 
P. P. U. (Pin Possessors' Union). 

Our condolences to Wuzzy the Sailor Man, Alice Pi'o- 
vost's little middy, who is soon to part company with his 
appendix. (We ain't sure what that tar has, but he cer- 
tainly crashes through in this column.) 

Another club we are planning on starting is the I. B. 
I. A. D. Society. It threatens to become a national or- 
ganization, and we hope you will join it soon. The 
initials stand for "I Bumped Into a Door" and one black 
eye entitles you to a life membership, two black eyes 
and we hire you a hall. Among the newer members are 
Pat Brennan and Janet Murray. Join now, and get your 
beefsteak while it's fresh. 

PCW caiTied the fight to Tech Territory, Junior Prom 
Nite. Among those present were Ella Hilbish, Mary 
Anne Bell, Jean McGowan, Betty Anne Baker, Caddie 
Lou Kinzer, Jean Cate, Brice Black, Peggy Christy and 
Margaret Longwell. Furtlier comment can probably be 
found in any Tech publication. (Adv.) 

(Another adv.) Dear Miss Logue: Please have a date 
with Heath Stevens. 

Add Items: Beryl Bahr giving Don Park the go-by 
. . . Peg Matlieny expecting a Greek god from Yale . . . 
Joan Myers getting steady mail (or male — optional) from 
Butler . . . Ruth Patton having trouble with Pitt and 

Keep Plugging 

The young people of America are taking their place in 
the sun of late, and in the newspapers too. The Na- 
tional Youth Congress, which met last week, was the oc- 
casion of two addresses, one by the President and one by 
John L. Lewis, in opposition to the President's remarks. 
In both speeches there is much that smacks of political 
subtility, if you ask us; and it's hard to say who won 
the argument. But the President came through with 
a remark that might well be kept in mind by all of us, 
who claim to be the youth — the future governors of 
America. It is our task to improve this counti-y if it is 
to be done by anyone, and Mr. Roosevelt's foi-mula is 
this: "Keep your ideals high, keep both feet on the 
ground and keep everlastingly at it." Now there is some- 
thing that makes sense. It is a formula that most of us 
find essential in the business of living, for sitting back 
in time of stress, or letting opposition or temporary de- 
feat lessen the goal we seek, will never bring us to the 
end of any hard job. What applies in our personal life 
has a chance of working out in national affairs too; and 
the lazy man's answer that he is but one individual in 
the great nation won't break down the analogy because 
the nation after all is only a group of people trying to 
live together. In such a system each person is important, 
and three newspaper pages devoted to the texts and dis- 
cussions of the speeches before the Youth Congress are 
evidence that the young people are extremely important. 
We've got our marching orders now. In our daily living, 
our search for a place in the sun, our relations with the 
powers that run the country, we must keep at it. 

It's Bed-time! 

They came to Mayor La Guardia of New York the 
other night and told him his name had been filed in the 
Illinois Republican Presidential primai-y. His reply to 
them throws a new light on the old maxim, "Every boy 
may become President." To it Mr. La Guardia might 
say, we think, "So what?" It ain't no fun to be the boss, 
and when they approached him after a hard day, and 
just after he had put his slippers on, the idea was too 
fatiguing to be considered. Yes, it used to be thought 
glorious to be President, something like being a King, 
but not so now. Business is business, and so is the presi- 

Back to Nature 

We, as a civilization, have been very proud of the 
way we_ have advanced away from our primitive state. 
We have been especially proud of our equipment for 
fighting wars. It is strange under such circumstances 
to see the weather uppermost in military accounts. But 
sub-zero weather has been a bug-bear to the Russians 
in Finland, and the spring mud is not going to help 
either. On the other hand, the sun will not help the 
Finns any by shining almost all night, and showing the 
way for bombing planes. It looks as if we had better 
not feel too superior to nature, 'cause the old laws still 
work, and we are not as smart as we thought we were. 

February 21, 1940 


Page Eleven 

Spring and Mr. fesbCC ^y Mardcn Armstrong, 42 

Spring had come to Harding 
street. Mr. Fosbee knew it the mo- 
ment he opened his eyes, for there 
was a certain softness in the light 
that came in his window, and a new 
fragrance in the air. And as he 
stepped into his morning shower he 
thought of rain-wet violets, and he 
smiled. He was a little shocked at 
himself for smiling — it was uncon- 
ventional for one to smile in one's 
shower. And besides, there was the 
possibility of getting soap in one's 
mouth. So he abruptly closed his 
mouth, and stepped dutifully under 
the cascade of water. 

But the strange, happy feeling 
persisted, even when he went down- 
stairs for his breakfast, and he for- 
got to be embarassed by the pert 
maid who set his steaming brown 
coffee before him, and deftly cracked 
his soft-boiled egg with something 
that was very close to impudence. 

His little blue eyes twinkled be- 
hind his thick-lensed glasses, and as 
he put his derby on his dusty brown 
hair, an extraordinarily clear-cut 
picture of the Eiffel Tower persisted 
in possessing his mind. He wa.s a 
little disturbed by this, but he ad- 
mitted to himself that it looked un- 
usually lovely against the French 
spring sky of his imagination. 

It was Mr. Fosbee's duty every 
morning to take Cuddles, his wife's 
precocious terrier, for a walk. It 
had been agonizingly embarrassing 
at first, and he had gotten up be- 
fore daylight, and slunk out of the 
house and around the block with 
the dog before anyone else was up. 
But habit had grown on him. and 
now he cheerfully exposed himself 
and Cuddles to the public eye with- 
out much concern. So accordingly, 
at fifteen minutes to the hour. Mr. 
Fosbee slipped the leash on Cuddles, 
and the two of them emerged into 
the spring sunlight of Harding 

The shrubbery was dusted lightly 
with pale green down, and there 
were three silver crocuses laughing 
at one another on the lawn. It was 
damp and clean and sparlUing, and 
a faint scent of lemon lingered in 
the air; and with all this, gentle Mr. 
Fosbee felt a glad singing in his 

Everything went well goirtg down 
Harding Street, but it was on the 
corner of Harding and Gormeley 

Avenue that Mr. Fosbee stopped 
short. For there in the very middle 
of the sidewalk was a very small boy 
standing on his head. This extra- 
ordinary phenomenon, appearing so 
early in the morning, disturbed even 
the complacent Cuddles, who ut- 
tered a sharp, surprised bark. This 
succeeded in startling the young ac- 
robat so that he lost his balance, and 
came down in a tumbled heap right 
at the neatly polished shoes of Mr. 

"Darn it!" said the very small 

Mr. Fosbee's mouth opened and 
then closed again. Then he said 

"1 say, are you hurt?" 


"Well, here, let me help you up." 

"Naw! I can get up all right." 

And he scrambled to his feet, and 
picked up his cap. 

"I'm sorry if . . .." Mr. Fosbee 
began weakly. 

"T'ain't nothin'." 

"What were you trying to do?" 

"Well, you see I'm tryin' to break 
the record." 

"Brealv the record . . . ," repeated 
Mr. Fosbee vaguely. 

The very small boy looked rather 
disgusted with Mr. Fosbee. Imagine 
not knowing what anything as im- 
portant as the "record" was. 

"All the kids in the neighborhood 
are tryin' to see which one can stand 
on his head for the longest time. I 
can do it for two an' a quarter 

And his chest swelled out like a 
piece of popcorn. 

"My word!" said Mr. Fosbee in 

"It's a pretty good trick," said 
the very small boy. 

"Oh, I don't doubt that," Mr. Fos- 
bee agreed. 

"Yessir. 1 can do it longer than 
anyone 'cept Roger McKnight. He 
can do it for three minutes." 

"Is he the champion?" 

"Yes, but he won't be for long. 

'cause I'm gettin' to be pretty good. 
I've been practicin'." 

Mr. Fosbee smiled a quiet, happy 
smile, and wasn't shocked at him- 
self for doing it at all. 

"Yes," he said, "Yes, I think you'll 
be the next champion. That Mc- 
Knight fellow had better watch 

The very small boy grinned at 
him, revealing a gaping hole where 
a tooth had been. 

"Gee, thanks!" 

There was a silence for a mo- 
ment, and then he turned to Mr. 

"Say, would you like me to teach 
you how to do it?" 

Mr. Fosbee thought of the Eiffel 
Tower, and rain-wet violets, and his 
wife at home in bed, and he very 
quickly said, "Yes." 

And the maid from the great red- 
brick house on the corner of Hard- 
ing Street and Gormeley Avenue 
was very much surprised when she 
came out for the morning milk, to 
see a slender, middle-aged man with 
thick-lensed glass and dusty brown 
hair, standing on his head on the 
sidewalk, while a very small boy 
holding a precocious little terrier 
danced wildly around him, cheer- 


By Marden Armstrong, '42 

When you have gone 

I will bring 

Wet violets from the marsh 

And jonquils from my garden 

For your grave there 

Under the elm. 

And when at night 

I kneel 

Before my high white bed 

I will say 

Thin prayers for you: 

And I will think about 

Mornings in the meadow. 

But I will not weep. 


6010 Penn Avenue 

MOntrose 21441 

Page Twelve 


February 21, 1940 


by Mar|ci ic Wood. '42 

The thick wavy branches and the 
curling underbrush sought to keep 
her from her climb, but she pushed 
them impatiently aside and contin- 
ued on her way. A bird on a nearby 
branch caused her to pause and listen 
to his shrill "Pt-see! Pt-see!" Little 
scoundrel! He knew and she knew 
that he could afford to be smug, for 
his babies were well hidden from 
prying eyes and ungentle hands. 

But her goal was the top, and she 
would never reach it if she did not 
hurry. A tiny patter of drops emp- 
tied into a warm summer rain, and 
the girl turned up her face to meet 
it. A small animal darted from her 
path and was lost in the hollow log 
before her dreamy eyes could turn 
downward from tlie tops of the sway- 
ing trees. But then she hurried on. 

Pausing for a moment at the end 
of the long climb, the girl caught 
her breath in big gasps and then 
followed the winding path through 
the forest which became thinner and 
thinner, until she suddenly noticed 
that the trees were no longer with 
her and she was out under the sum- 
mer skies. Try as she might, the girl 
had never been able to discover just 
where the forest left off and the 
meadow began. Here the thick 
mountain grass with its long curling 
blades brought to mind her younger 
days and the feel of the new baby 
blades of grass against her bare toes. 

But even here the girl would not 
linger. She hurried on, and now the 
Rock came into sight. Her steps 
lengthened to a trot and finally she 
clambered atop the huge grey Rock 
which she had always called "her 
house." The single tree beside it 
made a good roof, for it permitted an 
abundance of light and air, and even 
running water at times. But now the 
shower had long since ceased and the 
sun sparkled down at her. 

The tiny things of the earth were 
again busy at work and play and the 
girl laughed to see a tottering Daddy 
Long Legs waving about five or six 
of his eight legs in different direc- 
tions at the same time. 

"What is the matter. Daddy? Did 
you get cramped in your little hole 
during the rain or is your rheuma- 
tism bothering you again?" 

But she was only prolonging the 
moment, turning it over in her mind, 
tasting its sweetness on her tongue, 
remembering its delights, and think- 
ing that it couldn't be as wonderful 
as she was picturing it. When she 

could wait no longer she closed her 
eyes and rolled over on to her 

Opening her eyes she gasped, and 
knew that it was still as wonderful — 
yes, even more wonderful — than she 
had ever dreamed of it. For she 
was loolcing straight down, down, 
from the top of the dizzy height into 
the peaceful valley below. 

The recent rain had lifted the 
branches of the trees to meet it and 
now they danced merrily in the 
breeze and beckoned coaxingly to 
her. The girl felt the same cool 
breeze on her face and it made her 
feel close to the trees — almost close 
enough to touch them. 

A rosy mist hung over the tiny 
village in the distance. 

The tall spire of tire little church 
brought to mind the time the preach- 
er had permitted "Brother Hawkins's 
granddaughter" to ring the bell for 
church, and how her hot little hand 
had clung to the bell rope desperate- 
ly until the preacher had declared 
that, "Folks'U hear that fer miles 
'n miles around." 

But the town was far in the dis- 
tance, while just below was the 
most beautiful sight of all. The girl's 
eyes followed the rushing stream 
wiiere it wound itself under the 
bridge and around the hill, past the 
house. The little white house, nes- 
tled beneath four tall dark pines 
which stood like silent sentries, one 
at each corner of the house. There 
was more to see. 

The incorrigible little stream was 
never still, but babbled and gurgled 
from morning until night. Not that 
anyone ever listened, but it didn't 
seem to mind talking to itself in the 
least. String and willow rods, wiggly 
worms on bent pins, made a hot aft- 
ernoon pass quickly under a shady 
tree and sometimes there were three 
or four "chubs" to feed to the cat 
and her kittens. If the fish wouldn't 
bite, paddle wheels were great sport 
and damming up the creek was a 
never ending delight — never ending 
because the dam always broke and 
had to be built up again. 

Far below was the patient cow 
crossing the stream. Either the grass 
on the other bank was greener and 
juicier or old Jerse just wanted to 
cool her feet. In the evening the 
children would cluster around to 
watch the mystic process of taking 
the warm milk from the uncom- 

plaining cow. The girl had often 
held Jerse's tail to prevent her from 
switching Grandma in the face in 
her quest for an imaginary fly. Then, 
with a slap on the I'ump, the cow 
would be gone and the kittens would 
crowd around the old iron skillet 
that had been almost worn smooth 
by the many generations of rough 
tongues. It was their turn for the 
rich foaming milk, and how they 
lapped it up! 

Then there wei'e the chickens and 
the garden and the corn crib, but the 
girl's wandering eye found the post- 
man's boy on his bicycle delivering 
the afternoon mail. Already he wore 
glasses like his father. She thought 
it highly probable that he read the 
postcards too. His shrill whistle 
(which emerged unaided from the 
gap between his two front teeth)- 
floated up to her and she had an idea 
that if she called "Hello!" he might 
hear her. 

As he rode again up the path she 
watched, but her eyes stayed at the 
huge stone where she had found the 
ugly crushed body of a snake, his 
head lying several feet away with 
staring eyes and cruel tongue. She 
shuddered, just as she had cringed 
and run screaming to her mother tha 
first day. But she had been ver 
young then. 

The girl lay dreaming of the things 
that spread before her, the sweet 
smelling haymow at the top of the 
barn, the dark hen house with the 
rows of perches and nests and a few 
white eggs. Sometimes there was a 
dead chicken with a ripped throat 
and Grandpa would oil his gun and 
mumble a few words in his beard. 

Suddenly there was a slight noise 
behind her and at the foot of the 
Rock. Startled, she turned ai'ound 
and looked straight into the eyes of 
a doe, gazing inquisitively at her. 
The doe wheeled and loped off down 
the trail, followed by her tiny fawn 
on his long unsteady legs. The girl 
laughed to see him stumble and re- 
cover himself gracefully. 

But she hadn't noticed how low the 
red sun had sunk behind his curtain 
of green-black trees. Grandma ex- 
pected punctuality at dinner and she 
would have to hurry. She scrambled 
down from "her house" after one 
last look at the valley below and 
hastened so fast that she didn't no- 
tice when the trees had started and 
the open m.eadow and the lovely day 
lay far behind. 


February 21, 1940 


Page Thirteen 

Whit€ Euttcrfly 

by Jean Miller, 42 

The nursery lamp was dimmed. If 
you looked long enough at the teddy 
bears on the wall paper they moved 
around the room like stiff toy sol- 
diers. Most nights Marilyn played 
talking games with all the Mother 
Goose figures on the wall until she 
fell asleep but tonight was different. 
This was the last night she would be 
in the nursery for a long time. She 
might change her mind about going 
away if she played with the teddy 
bears or else she might go to sleep. 
No, she must stay awake until Mom- 
ma and Daddy were sound asleep. 
She pinched her chubby arms from 
time to time, and now and then sat 
straight up in bed. Maybe if she 
would tell herself the "Martha story" 
until everyone was quiet that would 
keep her awake. Martha was one 
of Gramp's little girls. Marilyn knew 
just what she looked like though she 
had never seen her. 

"She looked like you, Darling. She 
had big gray eyes and curly hair 
like yours, bright as a new-minted 
penny. It was always mussed up, 
too." Here Grampa always i-an his 
wrinkled hand over her red curls, 
smoothing them as he told the story. 

"It was a lovely night, crisp and 
cool, and the full moon high over the 
trees made the night almost as bright 
as day. The fairies get bold on such 
a night and dance clear to the edge 
of the forest. I used to talk to 
Martha about the fairies and she 
wanted to see them badly. She had 
been very sick and had talked about 
the fairies for many nights; so I told 
her I would take her to see them 
come the first full moon. 'Twas long 
about the end of the month when I 
saw in the almanac that there would 
be a full moon that night. About i) 
o'clock I bundled Marftia up and 
walked with her to the edge of the 
woods and sure enough — there were 
the fairies dancing and singing. Mar- 
tha and I stood there hand in hand 
to watch them. They were gay little 
souls in white dresses, so white it 
almost hurt your eyes to look at 
them. Made them water like. See, 
honey, even remembering makes my 
eyes water again." Here Grampa 
always had to pull out his clean 
white handkerchief and wipe his eyes 
and blow his nose real loud. 

"Well we stood there and watched 
them for awhile and listened to them 
sing. They had tiny voices, sounded 
like birds a'twittering. Then, kind 
of sudden like Martha turned and 

kissed me and hugged me tight," 
Marilyn was sorry Grampa wasn't 
telling her the story now. He al- 
ways looked so sad, like Bumpy 
when she and Momma and Daddy 
went for a ride and left him home, 
that she just had to hug him, too. 
Grampa was nice to hug; he didn't 
squeeze your arms like Aunt Eve 

"Then the strangest thing happen- 
ed. Martha turned into a white but- 
terfly and flew above my head. I 
watched her while she flew down to 
the fairies. Two of them took her 
hands and she danced with them. I 
called to her to come back but the 
fairies heard me and ran farther into 
the woods with her. Martha stopped 
and turned back and I thought for a 
minute she was going to come to me, 
but she only waved, and Pouf! The 
fairies and Martha had disappeared 
behind a big oak tree." 

Marilyn finished the story she had 
been whispering to herself and lis- 
tened intently. Momma and Daddy 
had stopped talking and Marilyn 
heard Daddy making that noise that 
meant he was asleep. Momma called 
it snoring but Daddy said he just 
"breathed heavily." She sat up and 
shivered slightly, for the night was 
chilly. Slipping on her roDe and 
slippers, she crept to the window. 
Yes, she could see the moon. Gram- 
pa had said there would be a fui' 
moon tonight. But it wasn't nearly 
bright as day. Maybe it just looked 
darker from the inside. 

She emptied her doll suitcase and 
carried it to the cupboard. She had 
already planned the things she would 
take with her. Her white dress, be- 
cause Grampa said the fairies wore 
white ones. Her new petticoat with 
the lace ruffle. She would wear her 
red striped dress so the white one 
wouldn't get dirty. There, that was 
ready. She laid the dress on the 
bed and took her blue coat and leg- 
gings from the hanger. Now, to find 
her white mittens. She opened the 
small top drawer where Momma 
kept her socks and mittens but only 
her i-ed mittens were there. Well, 
she'd have to wear the old red ones: 
she hadn't time to look for the others. 
Marilyn wasn't quite sure how late 
the fairies danced. It must be very 
late now, past 10 o'clock. She'd 
have to hurry. 

Her Dr. Denton pajamas buttoned 
in the back and she could reach only 

the top button. Her small hands 
were cold against her neck. She tried 
again and again and her arms hurt 
from the effort. Well, she'd just 
have to wear her pajamas under 
her dress. She hoped the fairies 
wouldn't mind. She pulled on her 
leggings and fastened her coat. She 
padded softly about the room. Shoes! 
She would wear the new vi'hite ones 
she wore Sundays. She put them on 
and laced them but her hands were 
too cold to make bows on the laces 
so she had to knot them. 

Marilyn snapped the small suitcase 
shut and tucked the big white teddy 
bear under one arm. There! She 
was all ready. She had gotten as far 
as the door when she remembered 
she had not brushed her hair. But 
Martha wore hers mussed so the 
fairies must not mind that. 

The hall was very quiet. Marilyn 
hesitated at the top of the stairs. 
The living room just beyond the foot 
of the stairs was full of darkness. 
She didn't really want to go by her- 
self. But Grampa only said she was 
too young when she'd asked him to 
take her. She'd asked Mommy and 
Daddy, too, but Daddy said to go to 
sleep like a good girl and he'd buy 
her a new fairy story tomorrow. 
Well, she just had to go tonight. 
There might not be another full moon 
until she was big as Momma. Mari- 
lyn was quite sure the fairies never 
took big people to fairyland. They 
had left Grampa when they took 
Martha. Not that she intended to 
stay very long. Just a day or two. 
She would even ask Martha to come 
back to Grampa so he wouldn't 
think the story was so sad. He 
wouldn't tell it to her very often 
any more. 

The stairs creaked loudly. Funny 
they never creaked in the daytime. 
They must breathe heavy when they 
slept, too, just like Daddy. She 
could see better now. The moonlight 
came in through the French doors 
just like the sun did. Marilyn guess- 
ed this was the first time she'd ever 
seen moonlight. The quiet was scary 
and she was glad she heard Bumpy's 
toe-nails clicking on the floor. He 
wiggled all over when he saw her. 
She hugged him and kissed him 
good-bye, but she followed her to the 

"Shh! Go to bed, Bumpy. Fairies 
don't take little dogs. I'm quite sure. 
I'll ask them though and take you 

Page Fourteen 

next time if they say yes. Now go 
lie down." 

She turned the knob. She turned 
it again but it elicited back in place. 
The doer must be stuck. Or maybe 
it was asleep; it always opened in 
the daytime. She tried the knob 
again. Then her small foot kicked 
the door gently. But it wouldn't open. 

"Matt, did you hear that . . . 
Maybe we left Bumpy out! Better go 

Daddy was coming down; she 
heard his slippers squeaking on the 
steps, and he yawned out loud.. Mari- 
lyn crouched down in the corner by 
the door. Maybe he wouldn't see 
her here. 

"Bumpy, here boy." Then he saw 
her curled up in a small bundle — 
one hand on Bumpy's collar, the 
other holding tightly to her white 
teddy bear. Beside the door stood 
the small suitcase on which he had 
painted the name of her doll in red 

"Marilyn, baby, what are you do- 
ing down here?" 

Daddy picked her up and carried 
her upstairs. 

Momma came into the nursery. 
Her hair was all mussed, too, and 
she had on her green robe. She 
turned up the fire and helped Mari- 
lyn take off the white shoes and her 
coat and leggings and dried her 

"But, darling, you couldn't really 
see the fairies you know. Martha 
was my little sister." Marilyn 
thought it was funny she never 
thought of that before. 

"She was very sick. The white 
butterfly Grampa told you about 
was really Martha's soul. When she 
danced with the fairies, the fairies 
took her to heaven. That's what 
fairyland really is, you know. When 
you go with the fairies you don't 
come back; and Daddy and I really 
need you here with us." 

Marilyn didn't understand. She 
was disappointed. The fairies would 
have let her come back. They only 
kept good children in heaven and if 
she had said "darnit" like Daddy 
sometimes did or pulled the arm off 
her teddy bear they would have sent 
her home quick as Peter Rabbit. 
Maybe there would be a full moon 
some other time. Then she would 
leave again only she'd go earlier be- 
fore the door got so sound asleep. 
The teddy bears were running 
around the wall so fast she couldn't 
keep her eyes on them. When the 
bears went so fast Marilyn couldn't 
play with them. She just shut her 
eyes and went to sleep. 


February 21, 1940 

Etchings of Beauty and Hatred 

By Dorothy Vale, '42 

The long steeply sloping moun- 
tain side was almost entirely free of 
trees or brush but was covered in- 
stead with drifts of snow that had 
banked against every rock or hollow 
in the ground. Each drift was 
crowned with a thin spume of snow- 
smoke, so that the mountain side 
seemed to undulate as the smoke 
rose and fell almost imperceptibly 
with the rise and fall of the wind. 
Crowning the mountain top were the 
evergreens, stunted and gnarled as 
they crouched before the wind, with 
low-flung branches. 

Up from the valley a man trudged, 
his skiis making a herring bone de- 
sign on the snow. Occasionally he 
stumbled, for the ground was rough 
and he was watching the snow- 
smoke, and the evergreens instead 
of the path. And although Gustav 
would have denied such thoughts, he 
appreciated the beauty of the scene. 
His eyes seemed to say "this is an 
etching — these shadows of drift and 
smoke and rock on snow^, these 
stunted trees with limbs sharply sil- 
houetted against the sky. And the 
sky is not blue, but a blinding light 
that squints the eyes and brings 
tears that freeze on the lashes." 

Half way up the mountain Gustav 
went more slowly and carefully, for 
the way was steep and very long. 
The muffler folded around the low- 
er part of his face was stiff with 
the frozen moisture of his breath. 

Up and up he trudged, until he 
reached the summit and the .shelter 
of the trees, where the keen bite 
of the wind was lost in the roar of 
a thousand violins. Gustav turned 
and looked back down the path he 
had left in the snow to the panorama 
spread below, and his eyes said 
"the work of a master craftsman 
and a master artist." 

Then, finally, he turned again 
and focused his binoculars on a dis- 
tant river valley. At last he found 
what he .sought, a long wavering 
line of men and horses moving along 
the frozen river ice. His e.yehirows 
slanted sternly downward and the 
crease etched deep between his 
brows deepened. His face was 
wrinkled and old as he strained to 
see the tiny figures that made up 
that line. They were tiny, spiritless 
figures with bowed heads and plod- 
ding snow-shoed feet, weary figures. 
Gustav scowled even more as he felt 

a stirring of pity for them. "At that 
rate it will be two days before they 
reach Lake Ladoga. Are we worthy j 
of no better foe than this?" he said. I 
And then he added, irrelevantly, 
"They're half-dead already." 

He looked away abruptly, and 
then, binoculars in their case, and 
rifle shifted to a more comfortable 
position, he glided into the ever- 
greens. Swiftly and easily he turned 
through the trees along the very 
ridge of the mountain, until finally 
as the sun descended beyond the 
horizon, he too descended, swiftly, 
with the wind at his back. Black 
storm clouds hastened the night as 
he sped the last miles over the lake 
ice. The first deluge of snow came 
just before he reached his post on 
the outskirts of Roalte. 

No more thoughts of etchings or 
pity as Gustav finished his report 
to his superior " — and if this blizzard 
keeps up it will be at least three 
days before they reach the pass." His 
superior, too, had the same grim 
forboding line etched deep in his 
forehead as he replied, "We will 
have enough powder by then." 


By Marden Armstrong, '42 

Time is a white bird 


Over the pale desert — 


To the distant purple hills 

Where the sun sleeps 

In a deep and soundless lake. 



SChenley 9811 5610 Wilkins Ave. 


"The Flower Stylists In 



MOntrose 4800 
6026 Center Avenue East End 

February 21, 1940 


Page Fifteen 

Nc Man'^ Land 

by Dorothy loo CvanSr '42 

It wasn't the same white ribbon 
I used to drive iny two-wheeler 
down as a boy. No, that long ex- 
panse of road was no longer the one 
you could curl your bicycle tires 
around. It was broken, broken by 
shell holes, debris, barbed wire en- 
tanglements and horror. We had 
been bumping along for two solid 
hours, dodging those yawning shell 
holes as deftly as possible. Our 
cargo of wounded men was upper- 
most in our minds as we sped 
through the night toward the base 

There were four men back there. 
Or. I should say, three men and a 
boy badly wounded, two on the point 
of death. Jim was one of them. 
Jim Bradley, the kid I had grown 
up with, the kid with whom I bad 
gone to high school and college, the 
kid with whom I had climbed apple 
trees and slyly smoked my first corn 
silk behind the garage. The kid 
with whom I had enlisted, he as 
private, I as ambulance driver and 
relief doctor. 

This country side had beeii oui 
home through the first ten years 
of our life. Our parents had been 
Americans living in the American 
settlement. Then, his parents hav- 
ing been killed in a train accident. 
Jim had come to live with us, and 
we had moved back to America. 
Now we were home again, in France, 
not as youngsters playing soldier 
over the countryside, but as real 
soldiers, fighting in front-line 

Jim had been one of the first 
to go over the top, night before 
last, and one of the first to stop 
enemy shells as they shrieked 
through No Man's Land. 

I turned to my partner who was 
driving that old crate, a poor excuse 
for mercy. He was one of the best 
drivers in the service. His jaw was 
set firmly and his eyes were fixed 
on the road watching for every .gut- 
ted out place and fallen tree. 

"My God, Pete, cut that speed 
down a little. Those poor fellows 
will die before you get them 

Without removing his eyes from 
the road he muttered, "Who's driv- 
in' this thing? These guys gotta' get 
to the hospital before dawn. We 
have an hour's grind yet." 

Nervously I shifted my eyes baclv 
again to the road and then to the 
rear of the truck. 

Pete slowed for a second. "Sorry 
kid, but you ain't done this as long 
as I have. You don't dare drive 
these roads in the daylight, even 
sportin' a red-cross flag big enough 
to cover a ten acre lot. You gotta' 
drive at night, and fast!" 

"Sorry Pete, I know, I — " 

"If you want to crawl in back for 
a while and look after the guys, 
I'll slow down, but make it snappy." 

I smiled my thanks and jumped 
out of the cab. As I jumped I was 
certain I heard the drone of planes 
overhead but the sound died away 
and I hopped into the rear. 

I would have finished my year's 
interneship the next June if I hadn't 
enlisted, so I was fairly confident 
when I bent over those men — those 
men and Jim — and attempted to ad- 
minister some first-aid and com- 

Two of the men were, by God's 
blessing, unconscious; one was de- 
lirious from pain and appeared to 
have little time left to suffer. 

Jim lay there wide-eyed, pain 
written clearly in every boyish line 
on his face. He was just a year 
younger than I, but looked only 
iibout sixteen. I stooped by his 
s-tretcher and tried to move him 
into a more comfortable position. 
He smiled weakly and whispered for 
a cigarette. I fished one from my 
tunic and lit it for him. 

"O. K., kid, we'll be there shortly. 
When I jumped out of the cab, do 
you l^now where we were? Down 
i-y ]^a Grande. Remember, Madame 
Dulong and her filled doughnuts? 
We used to beg them from her when 
we were kids." 

Jim nodded reminiscently. "Yes. 
Timmy. We must be near our old 
house by now." 

"Any time now. old fellow." 

These last words of mine were 
swai lowed up by sudden spurts of 
fire; the truck swerved and lights 
flashed through my head. That was 
the iast I remembered for some 

When I came to, I was lying 
across something cold. I moved my 
arm but a sharp twisting pain stop- 
ped me. I lay there for a few min- 
utes till things began to clear, then 
tried again. This time it was easier, 
and I managed to roll over into t 
semi-reclining position. 

Through a slit above my head I 
saw a dim light and realized that 
dawn was breaking. What had hap- 

pened? Where were we? What had 
I been lying on? Question after 
question poured through my tired 
head. Finally alter some time, 
answers began to formulate, and my 
brain cleared. The men were 
wounded, Jim was wounded. We 
were driving to the base hospital. 
It was night. It was dark out. The 
road, our road, Jim's and mine, was 
full of shell holes; we were speed- 
ing. Pete said we had to. We had 
to beat enemy planes. An enemy 
plane must have caught up with us, 
must have sighted us. Where was 
Pete? Questions again, more an- 
swers, more questions. 

After the pounding in my head 
had subsided, I moved again into 
an upright position. As I stretched 
I realized that I wasn't as badly 
injured as I had thought. I was 
more bruised and shocked. I pulled 
myself together and slid through a 
liole in the side of the truck barely 
large enough to accommodate my 

The scene that greeted my eyes 
was one that could not be put into 
words. The truck was on its side 
in a ditch, the wlieels ripped off, 
and a man's body lay at my feet. 
Instinctively my doctor's training 
caused me to bend over and searcn 
for a sign of life. The body was 
all that was left of Pete. His jaw 
was still squared for action and the 
a'assy stare of his eyes still car- 
ried a look of searching determina- 

Gently I moved Pete's body to 
the side of the road und searched 
furtlier through the wreckage. I 
soon found bodies of trjree of the 
soldiers — dead. Jim. however, was 
not among them, but somehow I 
knew he was with them — in death. 
I crawled back into the truck and 
found him as I last remembered 
seeing him, recalling our boyhood 
together, how we had fought side 
by side against neighborhood gangs, 
our first high school dances to- 
gether, our struggles in college. 
Then slovyly I removed small per- 
sonal belongings such as his watch 
and a rabbit's foot he had always 
carried. I turned and crawled out 
through the slit, facing what re- 
mained of an old farm house. Sud- 
denly, a chill feeling of recognition 
seized me. 

It was my old home of which 
(Continued on Next Page) 

Page Sixteen 


February 21, 1940 

nothing but a burned shell and gap- 
ing windows remained. This was 
the house in which I had been born, 
the house in which Jim and I had 
played as children, the house from 
which we had moved to America and 
now returned — Jim as a soldier, dead 
for his country, I as a doctor, still 
living to carry on the fight. 

Slowly I started for the door, 
then turned and looked down that 
shell-broken road. I had to con- 
tinue. I had to go on to the next 
station to notify a burial party of 
four more deaths in No Man's Land. 

On the Death Mask of An 
Unknown Girl Drowned In 
The Seine 

By Jean Burchinal, '42 

Your features — 

serene, untroubled — 

give no hint 

of inner turmoil; 

no sign of that despair 

which led you to the river. 

Men have long wondered on 

your beauty, 

which even 

the revengeful waters 

hesitated to distort; 

grave rest 

and quietness 

seem to lie now 

upon your face — 

a prayer in effigy, 

monument to eternal peace. 

Our Monthly Reminder — 

Patronize Your Music Store 


Hacke Building- 
207 Fifth Ave. Pittsburgh, Pa. 

Let's Meet 

at the 

Debs Corner 

East End Store 
6018 Penn Avenue 


By Ella Hilbish, '43 

Oh! wind of a thousand tones 

Ten thousand songs 

Know you not a gentle verse? 

As if to pacify that horrifying 

Vaguely, the rain drips. 
I feel so alone — 

so desolate! 

Oh, wind of a thousand tones 

Ten thousand songs 

Know you not a gentle verse? 



For Discriminating Women 
JAckson 4086 5875 Forbes Street 



Fresh Candies, Soda and Ice Cream 


Fifth and Wilkins Avenues 
Pittsburgh, Pa. 

Telephone MAyflower 0145 



Johnston The Florist 

MOntrose 7777 

5841 FORBES ST. 
HAzel 1012 























D. C. 






These reduced long distance rates are in eflFect 
every night after 7 and all day Sunday. Take ad- 
vantage of them to get in touch with the folks back 
home and with out-of-town friends. 



Vol. XIX 

Pennsylvania College for Women, Pittsburgh, Pa., March 20, 1940 

No. 6 

March Evening 

Page Two 


March 20, 1940 


Pennsylvania College for Women 
Pittsburgh, Pa. 

Subscription $1.00 per year in advance 

1939 Member 1940 

Pissocided Go[le6iaie Press 


National Advertising Service, Inc. 

College Publishers Representative 
AZO Madison Ave. New York. N. Y. 

Chicago • Boston • Los Angeles • San Fhancisco 

Editorial Staff 

Co-Editors Betty Eastwood. '40 

Rachel Kirk. '40 

Business Manager Ruth Flte, '40 

News Editor Nancy Over. '40 

Assistant News Editor Dorothy Evans, '42 

Feature Editor Jo Anne Healey, '41 

Literary Editors Renee Schreyer, '40 

Jean Miller. '42 

Copy Editor Claire Stewart. '42 

Make-up Editor Katherine Rutter, '40 

Assistant Make-up Editor Margaiet Wragg. '43 

Staff Photographer Catherirje Thu.,,pson. '40 

Proof Readers Joan Hammer. '41 

Louise Haldeman, '43 
Claire Horwitz. '43 

Copy Readers l-toiemane B'llippelli. '43 

Marjorie Noonan, '43 
Faculty Advisor. Ix^^cl t^. :.jliupp 

News Staff 

Jane Evans. Dorcthy Marshall, Lucille Cummins, Jean Sweet, Marion 
Rowell. Helen Waugh. Margaret Ander,-on, Mary Ann Mackey, Betty 
Ann Morrow, Marian Lambie. 

Feature Staff 

Helen Schellkopt. Mildred Stewart. Jean Burchinal, Althea 7_.owe, 
Betty Brown. Mary Loui?e Henry. Jeanne Anne Ayres, Mary Evelyn 
Ducey. Janet Ross. 3etty Crawford. 

Easiness Staff 

Betty Bacon. Alison Croft, Peggy Dietz. Jane Fitzpntrick. Eleanor 
Garrett. Virginia Gillespie. Marjorie Higgins. Beth Howard. Jane 
McCall, Mary Jane McCormick, Nancy Scott, Gloria Silverstein, Mary 
Singer. Bizzy Ward, Lois Wirth. 

jottings ill the margin 

Signs-of-spring . . . only a few snow-drifts here and 
there and fog oniy on alternate days . . . lO say nothing 
of that virulent ulcer of guest-towel-embroidering whicii 
is sapping the strength of about naif the senior class . . . 
Remember 'way back last fall wlren we used ;o ;alk r.bout 
the international situation? . . . Something-to-iook- 
forward-to . . . the golden banner of lorsythia flung 
over the hill across the drive . . . Department of utter 
despair . . . spring vacation is only ten days long . . . 
Isn't it wonderful how gloriously empty the second 
semester seems without May Day? . . . Somehow, our 
last ideal and illusion was shattered by the Finnish - 
Russian peace ... or are we being generous with other 
people's lives? . . . Signs-of-the-decadent-'Limes denart- 
ment . . . the noise in chapel which stubbornly continues 
in spite of all admonitions . . . Iconoclasm . . . let's 
change the name, Browsing Room, to Drowsing Room 
... or Grousing Room. 

Tomorrow for PCW 

In our quiet and inconspicuous little editorial way, we 
would like to do a bit of cheering for ihe future prospects 
of PCW. PCW has always been lauded and loved by its 
students for the friendly spirit which manifests itself 
here, the rare combination of country quiet and urban 
cultva-e and the even rarer fellowship existing between 
faculty and students. People outside of the college have 
praised what they called "the charm" of its graduates. 

Our college, therefore, has not been without admirers; 
but it has been without blind worshippers. .A.nd :-ightly 
so. For no matter how much a PCW student might love 
her school, she could never overlook its many material 
deficiencies. PCW, except in its laboratories, has been 
inadequately equipped for a number of years to take 
care of the increased enrollment and strengthened cur- 

The administration and classrooms building, for all 
tlie sentiment surrounding it, is draughty and sprawl- 
ing and splintery. The gymnasium and locker rooms are 
much too small to provide for the school's athletics, and 
the library, although unusually beautiful, has only about 
one-third enough books to fill the needs of the new cur- 
riculum. Student activities have struggled along almost 
without headquartei's, and tlie PCW auditorium has been 
the college disgrace. 

In the last three months, however, three things have 
happened which would malve it seem that PCW's star 
is in the ascendant. First, late in December, came the 
announcement of the inauguration, next year, of a sys- 
tem of working for honors. This system, even though 
limited to only a few students, should do much to ?:aise 
the scholastic standards of our college to a place second 
to none. It is an important step forward. 

January 31, the Pittsburgh papers carried ihe news of 
the opening of a $1,500,000 building and endowment 
campaign for PCW. Tliis campaign, if it reaches its goal, 
should give the college one of the most beautiful small 
campuses in the country and should bring its endowment 
up to something resembling the sum it ought to be. 

A third project, and one which surely is worthy of 
laudatory mention, is the Alumnae Gift Fund Dri^-e vo 
raise $5,000 for the library. Conservative estimates place 
the number of books which a liberal arts college should 
have at 30,000 above the total collection of the PCW 
library. This year's Gift Fund, therefore, is not only de- 
sirable, it is necessary. 

Not any one of these three plans should be minimized 
in importance by any other. Each one — the honors sys- 
tem as wen as the building and endowment fund; the 
gift fund for the library no less than the campaign for 
new equipment — has a olace in a bigger plan, a more 
far-reaching drive. And that is the move to give PCW 
the same place in the national sun that it enjoys locally. 

We do not believe that it is blind optimism to say 
that the combination of these three plans, if fully worked 
out, will result in a new PCW. Without losing its charm, 
its friendliness, its fine spirit and freedom of discussion, 
our college will gain the material equipment to carry 
into effect its high fcholastic standards. 

March 20, 1940 


Page Three 

Seniors Will Present 
Mnsical Comedy 

Scene of Original Play 
Is Petticoat Paradise 

This year's senior play, to be pre- 
sented May 16 and 17, will be an 
original musical comedy, tentatively 
titled, No Male Today. The sen- 
iors hope to do the entire produc- 
tion themselves, including building 
sets, making costumes, arranging the 
original music and dances and di- 
recting the cast. 

At an early class meeting in the 
fall, enthusiasm waxed low for the 
usual senior play. Most complaints 
seemed to be directed towards the 
casting of girls as men, and the play- 
reading committee was having a 
hard time finding plays suited to 
PCW's peculiar production difficul- 

Seniors Turn Author 

The whole difficulty would be 
solved, somebody decided, if a play 
were tailor-made to fit our stage, 
our audience and our talents. Au- 
drey Horton, Nancyann Cockerille 
and Rachel Kirk, therefore, began 
after Christmas vacation to write a 
play. The latter part of February, 
they emerged from semi-seclusion 
with five scenes, nine songs and 
sketches for sets and costumes on 
the backs of envelopes. 

Femopian Election 
The scene of No Male Today is 

laid in Femopia, a land established 
nowhere by a large gi-oup of dis- 
gruntled women from the United 
States. A dictatorship is set up and 
the party in power is re-elected 
every lour years without any trouble 
at all. In 1940. however, a group of 
college girls, believing that the time 
has come for a return to the demo- 
cratic principles of their forefath- 
ers, decide to put up a candidate to 
run against the dictator and her 
cabinet. The campaign results de- 
pend upon which side can obtain 
the support of Cobina, the only gir! 
in Femopia who has any money. 
The government party offers her a 
seat on the bench of justice. The 
college gjrls offer a man. The final 
result would not be a surprise to 
any one with a knowledge of femi- 
nine psychology. 

Music, under the direction of Ann 
Hamilton Miller, and Mai-y Lou 
Shoemaker, is original. There are 
nine songs, including. Time Was, A 
Man For Me, Lullaby for a Sleepy 

Committee Plans 
Sports Dance 

Polly Sommerfield, "40, chairman 
of the committee for the annual 
sports hop, has announced definite 
plans for the dance. The committee, 
consisting of Ginny Lappe, '41, Dor- 
is Dodds, '43, Grace Mary Horton, 
'42, Betty Sweeney, '40, and Jane 
McCall, '43, has decided upon Sat- 
urday evening, April 13, as the date 
for the dance. 

The affair will be held in the 
chapel, and the music for the eve- 
ning will be furnished by many of 
the great name orchestras in the 
country — via nickelodeon. 

The decorations will vary, as the 
committee has decided to have a 
different theme in each corner of 
the room. In one comer will be the 
drug-store where coca-cola can be 
purchased and "hot dogs' will be 
found in the "puppy shop" oppo- 

Sports clothes will be worn at the 
dance, which is strictly informal. 

Liberal Arts Colleges 
Hold Conference 

The annual conference of the Lib- 
eral Arts colleges of Western Penn- 
sylvania will be held April 6. at 
Grove City College, Gro\e City. 
Pennsylvania. Dr. Tolley, president 
of Allegheny College, is president of 
the Association and has invited all 
presidents of the small Liberal Arts 
colleges of Western Pennsylvania as 
well as the heads of the Education 
Departments. There v.- ill be various 
discussions of which PCW's repre- 
sentatives. Dr. Spencer and Dr. 
Kinder, will take active part. 

Possum, I'm Just A Girl LiKe ^ou, 
and Clementine for Candidate. 

Dances will be in charge of Jean 
Cate and Ruth Schrerer. 

Each member of the class is ex- 
pected to take an active part in the 
production. Committee chairmen 
are: Costumes, Betty Crawford; 
Properties, Frances Shoup: Stage. 
Aethelburga Schmidt; Pubhcity, 
Betty Eastwood; Tickets and Pro- 
grams. Ruth Fife; Refreshments, 
Mary Ellen Ostergard. 

Casting is scheduled to be com- 
pleted today. The production will 
be in charge of the authors, Nancy- 
ann Cockerille as student director 
and Audrey Horton and Rachel Kirk 
as production managers. 

Vocational Week 
Brings Speeches 
By Career Women 

The week of April 8 is Vocational 
Week for PCW students. All the pro- 
grams will be held in chapel at 
10:30 with the exception of one 
Wednesday afternoon program. 

On Monday, April 8. Miss Barbara 
Fetterman, the personnel director at 
Kaufmann s, will give a general vo- 
cational talk on "What Employers 
Want In A Girl." Miss Fetterman 
will also speak of her personnel 
work at Kaufmann's. 

Mrs. Mary Denman is the spealver 
for the Wednesday Chapel group. 
Mrs. Denman is connected with pub- 
lic charities and will address the 
group on "Civil and Social Service 
Work." At the Wednesday afternoon 
meeting, Constance Huhphery will 
speak on "Women in Journalism." 

On Friday, the concluding Voca- 
tional Assembly will be held. At 
this meeting, Dorothy Ryman will 
speak on "Advertising." Mrs. Ry- 
man, formerly with Homes, is now 
with Gimbel Brothers in Pittsburgh 
and is also the publicity director at 
the Playhouse. 

The vocational committee is com- 
posed of Betty Ann Baker, '42, 
Betty Sweeney, '40, Anne Lindsay, 
'41, Marjory Noonan, '43, and the 
chairman, Marianne McCaiiii-tsr, '40. 

The vocational guidance programs 
are held each year to help students 
to plan for their future careers. 

Proceeds from 
Benefits go to 
Various Funds 

During the last few weeks there 
have been several benefits, among 
them the annual dance sponsored by 
Lambda Pi Mu, and a benefit bridge 
given to aid the Far Eastern Stu- 
dent Relief Fund. 

Catherine lams, '40, co-chairman 
with Betty Crawford of the bridge 
party which was held in Woodland 
Hall, announced that $60 had been 

Mary Lou Shoemaker, '40. made 
S147 from the sale of programmes 
and chances at the Tea Dance. The 
money will be given to the student 
loan fund. 

Although the Prom was not a 
benefit, the sum of $100. from the 
proceeds, was given to the building 
and endowment fund. 

Page Four 


PCW Studejits 
Attend Convention 

The Intercollegiate Conference on 
Government, which will hold its 
annual meeting April 18-21 at Har- 
risburg is to be in the ,orm of a 
National Political Convention. The 
meeting will be unusually interest- 
ing, since this year is the year of the 
national conventions. All of the 
outstanding colleges of Pennsylva- 
nia take part in this conference, be- 
cause their students of govern- 
ment thus have a chance to give 
piactical application to their theories 
of government. It gives students a 
chance to see how their government 
actually functions, and take part in 
the procedure, instead of merely 
studying it from a textbook. Beth 
Howard, '41, is regional director of 
the conference for this district, in- 
cluding PCW, St. Vincent. Seton 
Hill, Slippery Rock, California, Du- 
quesne, Pitt, and Mt. Meicy. 

PCW this year will send its larg- 
est delegation to the Conference. 
Several of the delegates to the Con- 
ference are underclassmen, which 
means that they will be able to at- 
tend several more Conferences and 
with their previous experience play 
an important part in the meetings. 
The delegates from PCW and the 
committees on which they will serve 

Natural Resources — Nina Maley 
'43, Moclcey Anderson '42. 

Agriculture — Mildred Stewart '42, 
Louise Mclntyre '41. 

Governmental Organization and 
Intergovernmental Relations — Mary 
Babb '42. 

Labor Relations — Ruth Fife '40, 
Eileen Wechsler '42. 

Foreign Relations — Mary Lou 
Shoemaker '40, Jo Anne Healey '41. 

Social Legislation— Margaret Hibbs 
'42, Elizabeth Shipley '42. 

Rules Committee — Beth Howard 
'41, chairman of the PCW delegation. 
There was a meeting on March 17, 
at 2:30 at PCW of the Colleges who 
will attend the conference. Miss 
Genevieve Blatt, Executive Director 
of the I. C. G. spoke and each col- 
lege gave a report of its activities 
and preparation for the Conference. 
Beth Howard, Regional Director, was 
in charge of the meeting. 

Pennsylvania College for Women 
has chosen to represent South Car- 
olina in the national convention. 
They will consider the most import- 
ant problems of this state and try 
to push through planks which would 
be most advantageous to South Car- 

Aluninae Council Holds 
Annual Meeting 
At College 

The sixteenth annual meet of the 
PCW Alumnae Council was held 
Saturday, March 9, on campus. Out 
of 67 graduated classes, 40 were 
represented. Because of the bad 
weather it was difficult for out-ol- 
town representatives to attend. 

In the morning a business meet- 
ing was held. There were 65 repre- 
sentatives present. Mrs. James Mc- 
Clelland, '77, was the oldest repre- 
sentative and Ruth Davies, '39, was 
the youngest. 

Following the registration Miss 
Marks spoke to the Council on extra 
curricular activities and the meeting 
was adjourned for the Student Gov- 
ernment meeting. Roll Call followed 
the S. G. A. meeting, and then Mrs. 
John M. Phillips reported on the 
Library Gift Fund. She showed a 
cartoon of Cy Hungerford's on "The 
College on the Hill," and a graph 
showing the percentages by classes 
of those who had contributed or 
pledged gifts. Dr. Spencer spoke of 
the Building Fund campaign and the 
Council voted to support him. Tol- 
lowing a discussion on benefits, the 
representatives adjourned for lunch 
in Woodland Hall. 

The afternoon meeting began at 
two o'clock in the Chapel. There 
were one hundred members present. 
A panel discussion on the curricu- 
lum was led by Dr. Spencer, v/ith 
Miss Marks, Mrs. Shupp, Dr. Wal- 
lace, Miss Erret, Miss Welker, Miss 
McCarty, Miss Gunderman, and 
Dr. Doutt participating. The changes 
in the curriculum in the last ten or 
twenty years was the topic of dis- 
cussion. The meeting was adjourn- 
ed for tea in Berry Hall. 

olina. In order to add color and get 
in the real spirit of a Political Con- 
vention the PCW delegation plans 
to provide itself with a placard and 
banners for its State. 

At the opening session on April 
19 in the Forum Republican and 
Democratic Parties are sending rep- 
resentatives to address the assem- 
bly. The opening session is going 
to be broadcast and there will be a 
number of later broadcasts at which 
student delegates will discuss the 
progress of the Convention. The Ra- 
dio Broadcasts have always been an 
interesting feature of the Confer- 

March 20, 1940 

PCW Girls Dance 
At Quadrille 

Thirty girls from PCW will dance 
in the W & J Quadrille on April 26 
at Washington. Dr. Hutchison, the 
president of W & J, has asked PCW 
to participate in this annual event. 
In this way there will always be a 
group of girls who have had a year 
of experience in dancing the Quad- 
rille and who will be aole to help 
others learn in future years. 

The Quadrille, consisting of sev- 
eral dances, including old-fashion- ' 
ed square dances, and minuets 
danced by the boys of W & J and 
partners whom they choose, has been 
given for the past five years. Six- 
teen of the dancers wear colonial 
costumes to maintain the spirit of 
the occasion, while the otlrers wear 
evening clothes. 

Henry Ford, who sponsors the 
W & J Quadrille, has been very much 
interested in the performances, at- 
tending some and even taking part 
in them. 

Mr. and Mrs. Lovett, who coach 
the Quadrille, are from Dearborn, 
Michigan, the city which Mr. Ford 
made famous. They will attend the 
last rehearsals and the peiformance. 
The students who took part last year 
are teaching the new comers till Mr. 
and Mrs. Lovett come. 

The PCW girls who have vol- 
unteered to dance in the Quadrille 
this year are: Jean Burchinal, Cath- 
erine Carey, Ellen Copeland, Jean 
Faris, Margaret Graham, Barbara 
Heinz, Virginia Hendryx, Beth How- 
ard, June Hunker, Barbara Johnston, 
Margaret Longwell, Mary Linn 
Marks. Peggy Matheny, Jane Mc- 
Clung, Virginia McCune, Alice Mc- 
Kain, Amy McKay, Janet Murray, 
Marjorie Noonan, Alice Provost, 
Alice Reed, Mary Elizabeth Rope, 
Elizabeth Rudman, Anna Betty Say- 
lor, Nancy Scott, Vii'ginia Sumner, 
Claranne Von Fossen, Louise Wal- 
lace, Julia Wells, Susan Wooldridge. 

Students Give Program 

The students ot the music depart- 
ment of PCW will present a pro- 
gramme for the Alliance Francaise 
at the Twentieth Century Club, 
April 27. 

The numbers on the programme 
will be: En Bateau by Claude De- 
bussy, Ballet by Debussy, Sonata a 
Trois by J. B. Lueiffet, The Huntingr 
Song, Lullaby, and the Swing, and 
two by Debussy, Reverie and Dance. 

March 20, 1940 

Music Students 
Are Active 

At the student recital yesterday 
afternoon at 4 o'clock in the chapel, 
the following program was present- 

Dawn Cyril Jenkins 

Anne Lindsay 


Minuet for Four Hands. .. .Tours 
Jean Ayars and Helene Welker 


To the Children, .. .Rachmaninoff 
Beryl Bahr 


Rondo in A tor Piano and Or- 
chestra • Mozart 

Mary K. Eisenberg 
Orchestral rjart on 2nd. Piano — 
Helene Welker 

Grand Chorus Dubois 

Catherine Thompson 

Sonata Opi's 13 — First Move- 
ment Beethoven 

Marion Cohen 

Spring Grieg 

The Garland Franz 

Jean Watson 

"In Death's St; ong Grasp the 

Saviour Lav" Bach 

Elizabeth Rowse 

Komm Bald Brahms 

Serenade Brahms 

Frances Mahaffey 

Arabesque in E Debussy 

Mary Elizabeth Rope 

Clair de Lune Karg-Elert 

Ruth Clark 

Connais Tu (from "Mignon") 

• Thomas 

Marian Kieffer 

Fugue in G minor Bach 

Florence Succop 
The Glee Club gave the same pro- 
gram in chapel, March 13, that it 
gave at Grove City, March 16. They 
sang a group of German songs as 
their specialty. 

Betty Jane Atkinson, who has 
studied with Markus Klein in Pitts- 
burgh, and Carl Flesch in London, 
until the war broke out, played sev- 
eral violin selections for tlie chapel 


Honors Coniniittee 
Will be Named 

The governing board of the new 
honors system which will be inaug- 
urated next year at PCW is to 
be chosen soon. It will be named 
by Dr. Spencer and Miss Marks and 
will be made up of these two and 
four faculty members, representing 
the four curriculum groups. 

The faculty has worked out this 
plan so that students of higher stand- 
ing will have an incentive to go in- 
to more intensive study and so that 
they may possibly have an oppor- 
tunity to do work in fields not cov- 
ered in the usual plan of undergrad- 
uate class work. 

The student who may take ad- 
\'antage of this work will be chosen 
by the committee on Honors Work. 
They may either be recommended 
by the faculty or may request an 
opportunity to do the work. It is 
not expected that a large member 
will want to try the plan nor will 
more than 10 per cent of a class be 
allowed to try. 

Those working under the system 
will take nine hours of regular class 
work a semester and their other six 
hours credit will come from read- 
ing on sub.iects related to their ma- 
.iors. They may chose the faculty 
member who will direct their work 
V 1.1 may ask the advice of other fac- members. 

Glee Club Takes Part 
In Grove City Festival 

PCWs Glee Club departed for 
Grove City College, Grove City, 
Pennsy \ania, Saturday, March 16, 
at 11:03 A. M. At Grove City they 
joined with the glee clubs from five 
other Liberal Arts Colleges for the 
Music Festi\-al. 

Mr Moulter, director of the Grove 
City Glee Club, arranged for the 
guests to have dinner at the various 
cliurches, after an afternoon of 
sight-seeing and rehearsing. 

In the evening the glee clubs join- 
ed in three group numbers and then 
each college sang two nuinbei s of 
their own choosing. PCv7 sang "The 
Gypsy Love Song," number three, 
by Brahms and "Standchen" by 
Schubert. Jane Hanauer was the sol- 
oist in the latter. 

Following the Music Festival the 
glee clubs were guests at a dance 
festival. The day climaxed when the 
bus departed for Pittsburgh and 
PCW at 11:30. 

Page Five 

Miss Mo»ry Receives 
Master's Degree 

Miss Mowry received her Master's 
Degree from the University of Pitts- 
burgh February 16. She received her 
degree in Englisli and used as her 
thesis subject Christopher Pearse 
Cranch; Transcendental Poet. 

Miss Mowry "discovered" this man 
— who was not only a poet but also 
an artist, a short story writer, a 
musician, and e\'en a ventriloquist. 
During his lifetime, he lived in Paris, 
in Rome, and in many cities of the 
United States, including Boston, New 
York, Washington, and Louisville. 
While in Louisville, he was assistant 
editor of the Western Messenger, a 
predecessor to the Dial, a magazine 
of the nineteenth century. He was 
a friend of Robert Browning, Ten- 
nyson, Thackeray, Lowell, Emerson, 
and the artist, William Wetman 
Storey. Pearse was also a frequent 
\-isitor at Brook Farm where he en- 
tertained by singing, playing and 
x-ertriloqu'sm. He was a favorite of 
all who knew him. His best-known 
book is a collection of fiery stories. 
The Last o the Huzzer Muggers. 
His best-known poetry is Ariel and 
Caliban and The Bird and the Bell. 

PCIV Voice Pupils Star 
In Planetarium Show 

Jane Hanauer, '40, Gladys Cooper, 
'42, and Eileen Wessel, '42, are sing- 
ing at the Buhl Planetarium on the 
North Side during the month of 

The title of the program is Spring, 
the Awakening, and it consists of the 
reading of poems Ijy Rosetti and se- 
lections from the Bible, a3 well as 
songs by the PCW students. 

The girls, who alternate singing 
in the Easter show, have chosen as 
their selections. In the Time of Ros- 
es, by Louise Reichart, Spring, and 
First Primrose, by Grieg, Springtime, 
by Becker, and Spring by Gounod. 

All are the voice pupils of Mrs. 
Robert D. Ayars and are active 
members of the Glee Club. Jane 
Hanauer is a member of Dramatic 
Club and Gladys Cooper and Eileen 
Wessel are members of I. R. C. 

The Buhl Planetarium was made 
possible by the Buhl Foundation 
which gave PCW the Louise C. Buhl 
Hall of Science, named m memory 
of Louise C. Buhl and completed in 
1932. The director of the Buhl Foun- 
dation is Mr. Charles F. Lewis who 
is a member ol PCWs board of 

Page Six 

PCW Inherits 
Large Insect 

Pennsylvania College for Women 
has inherited this winter a large 
collection of moths and butterflies, 
most of which are mounted, identi- 
fied, and displayed in glass-topped 
cases. At the present time, these in- 
sects are being kept in the psy- 
chology lecture room in the base- 
ment of Buhl Science Hall. 

This collection has a very real 
value in the completeness of its rep- 
resentation of the variation which 
exists in local forms of moths and 
butterflies. The number of speci- 
mens which it includes run well in- 
to thousands, and the majority of 
them have been collected within the 
vicinity of Jeannette, Pennsylvania. 

Jeannette Man Collector 

The man responsible for making 
the collection was not a professional 
biologist. Inhabitants of Jeannette 
knew him as Frank Knechtel, and 
it was there that he spent most of 
his life. He was a decorator of 
glassware for Pittsburgh Lamp 
Brass and Glass Company, but his 
talents were by no means limited to 
glass work. He did landscape paint- 
ings, was much interested in taxi- 
dermy, and as a hobby, merely, made 
the enormous collection of insects 
which is now in the possession of 

Born on November 11, 1866 in 
Steinchonan, Germany, Mr. Knechtel 
began to collect insects when he was 
only ten years old, and when he em- 
igrated to America he brought these 
specimens with him. In the remain- 
ing 49 years of his life, 40 of which 
■were spent in Jeannette, he contin- 
ued to collect. He made numerous 
exchanges with collectors in other 
parts of the world so that various 
specimens of butterflies and moths 
from tropical countries and fascinat- 
ing forms from other lands are all 
a part of the insect group which now 
belongs to us. 

Variation Within Species 

One of the greatest services which 
this exhibit of insect forms will ren- 
der the biology department in the fu- 
ture is its ability to illustrate con- 
cretely the occurrence of variation 
•within a species. Mr. Knechtel, as 
previously mentioned, did the great- 
er portion of his collecting within 
the immediate vicinity of Jeannette. 
Because of this, there is naturally a 
large amount of duplication of 


March 20, 1940 

Dorm Questionnaire 
Clianges Rules 

Results of the returns from the 
questionaire circulated at Wood- 
land Hall a month ago were an- 
nounced at the house meeting Mon- 
day night, March 11, at the hall. 

The questionaire was given to each 
girl to fill out and it consisted of nine 
questions dealing with current prob- 
lems of the dormitory. They were; 

1. Do you smoke habitually? Occa- 
sionally or never? 

2. Do you object to having your 
frier ds smoke in your room? 

3. Do you think your parents would 
object to seeing girls smoke in the 
drawing room? 

4. If smoking were permitted in the 
drawing room, would you be in- 
terested in playing bridge there 
rather than in your room? 

5. If smoking were permitted in the 
drawing room after dinner, would 
you spend more time there? 

6. Would you be in favor of Wood- 
land hall buying a radio for its 
drawing room? 

7. Do you favor having informal 
date nights on Saturdays even- 
ings in the drawing room? Would 
you support them? 

8. What are your criticisms of dorm 

9. Do you have any specific sug- 
gestions for a more congenial spir- 
it in the dorm? 

Betty Crawford, president of the 
house, reported that the majority of 
the girls were in favor of smoking 
m the drawing room after dinner and 
they will now be permitted to smoke 
from 7 to 7:30 o'clock. 

Saturday evenings will be in- 
formal date night. Boys and girls 
may have dates in the drawing room 
until 12 o'clock. Although most of 
the girls voted for this only about 
30 were willing to support it. 

The last announcement was made 
by Miss Marks who told of the 
criticisms of the dormitory life and 
asked the girls to try to be more co- 

The house members also voted to 
buy a new radio with a record at- 
♦^-^hment for the drawing room. 

Soco Gap Artists 
Give Concert 

As a benefit for the Boyd Memor- 
ial Musicological Library a program 
of American folk arts, dancing, sing- 
ing, and playing, will be presented 
by the Soco Gap Artists at Carnegie 
Music Hall, Friday, April 5, at 8:30 
P. M. 

The concert is to be under the 
auspices of The In-and-About-Pitts- 
burgh Music Educators Club of 
which Dr. Spencer is an honorary 
member. It is an organization of 400 
members devoted to the interest of 
music in the schools and communi- 

The Soco Gap Folk Artists take 
their name from the mountain valley 
in which they live as farmers, lum- 
ber mill workers, teachers, clerks 
and mechanics. The gi-oup of about 
25 includes singers, players and 
dancers. Of these the largest unit 
is the Soco Gap Dance Team of 16 
members. Behind the signal recog- 
nition implicit in their White House 
invitation, for the King and Queen 
of England, during their American 
visit in June , 1939, are many other 
appearances at important festivals as 
far west as St. Louis. They have 
been frequent first-prize winners in 
their own regional, competitive 
Asheville Folk Festival. 

species. Thus, mounted as they are 
side by side, small individual differ- 
ences of coloring, marking, etc., 
show up in fine gradation. They 
point out clearly how the process 
of evolution of animal forms might 
be accomplished through a series 
of infinitesimal changes. 

Verse Speaking Choir 
Gives Program 

PCW's Verse Speaking Choir par- 
ticipated in the evening community 
service at the Sixth Presbyterian 
Church, Sunday, March 10. Nearly 
200 persons attended the service at 
which 13 girls in the choir repeat- 
ed the scripture and some sacred 
poetry. Miss Kerst was unable to 
attend and conduct her group, since 
she had been called to Toledo be- 
cause of illness. 

The verse choir recited: 

The Church by Charles Rann 


Go Down Death by James Weldon 


Lament of David — II Samuel. 

The Women at the Well. 


Prayer for Sunday Evening by 

Walter Raus -i-ei^" '-~ch. 

Sabbath by Mary Vaughn Dunklee. 

Psalms 150, 24, 46, 95. 

Isaiah 60. 

March 20, 1940 


Page Seven 


By Betty Cravrford 

This week not only brings the first day of spring, but 
also the beginning of our vacation, with its leave-of- 
absence from 8:30s, weekly reports and hour writtens. 
Everyone is busy planning for those ten days; some are 
going to Washington to see the cherry blossoms, others 
are traveling to Florida to get some bona-fide sunshine, 
while still others of us are just going home, to be kept 
very busy with showers, parties, and spring shopping. 
The following suggestions in the entertainment line are 
made to fill in the few extra hours for which you haven't 
any definite plan. 

The Hot Mikado, featuring Bill Robinson, will olay a 
return engagement at the Nixon Easter week. If you 
haven't already seen this smash hit, here's your chance! 
Incidentally, John Garfield will star in Heavenly Express 
the week of April 1, and Katherine Hepburn is bringing 
The Philadelphia Story to the Nixon the following week, 
April 8. These are all outstanding performances and 
should not be missed. 

In a more sedate, serious vein is the May Beegle con- 
cert on March 26 which features Vladimir Horowitz, 
pianist. By the way, Mr. Horowitz's wife is the former 
"Wanda Toscannini, daughter of the great conductor. 

For an afternoon of real beauty visit the Spring 
Flower Show, beginning tomorrow at Phipps Conserva- 
tor.v. and the collection of art masterpieces which will be 
at Carnegie Museum for a month. This is a rare oppor- 
tunity to see 44 of the great paintings of the world. 

Where ever you happen to be during our spring vaca- 
tion you are certain to run into the long-awaited-for, 
super-colossal Gone With the Wind. If you haven't al- 
ready seen this stupendous film, here is a good way to 
put in four hours' worth of beautiful and moving drama. 
Likewise, Grapes of Wrath, the cinema version of John 
Steinbeck's frank saga which has so upset ladies' aid so- 
cieties and timid people everywhere. This is truly of 
great social significance, and you should see the picture. 
Northwest Passage is the third outstanding movie to have 
been filmed from a best seller. Soencer Tracy and Robert 
Young star in this picture, which is also reported as being 
good entertainment. 

Dancing can always be had at the William Penn, Bill 
Green's and the New Penn, to mention only a few. And 
for a really different, and delicious dinner try the Villa 
d'Este, Center Avenue. If you run to the nearest radio 
when Guy Lombardo is scheduled to broadcast you'll be 
glad to hear that he and his orchestra is scheduled to 
appear at the Stanley soon. 

The Art Cinema is featuring two sinash hits which, 
if you missed when they were playing in Pittsburgh, 
you'U probably want to see. Wuthering Heights, given 
the New York Film Critics' Circle award for the best 
film of the year, and starring Laurence Olivier and 
Merle Oberon, is billed with Made for Each Other which 
features James Stewart and Carole Lombard. Quite a 
combination, that! 

Tills basketball season, closed last night by the Hon- 
orary Game, topped all others for thrills, excitement, 
teamwork, and (we don't like to mention this) roughness 
in general play. This was especially noticeable in the 
names in whicli the freshmen participated and ,vr;s un- 
doubtedly due to inexperience in playing together. 

The season was opened March 5 with the best ganme 
of the entire season. The contestants, the Seniors vs. ihe 
Juniors, gave a splendid exhibition of smooth ball hand- 
ling, team play, and accuracy. In this the Seniors were 
triumphant, 44 to 37, with outstanding teamwork shown 
by the Senior forwards and remarkable accuracy in long 
shots by the Juniors while the guards for both teams 
certainly did their part in getting the ball to their for- 
wards. This game was the classic of the entire year. 

The last half of this double-header was a combat be- 
tween the Sophomores and the Freshmen with che Froih 
coming out on top, 37 to 20. It seems ironic that ihis 
game followed the best game of the season for, with 
regard to technique, it was the worst. Rough playing 
topped off by long hard passes made this feature exciting 
while the abundance of Freshman material gave great 
promise for teams to come. 

March 11th, the Seniors took over the Frosh, 36 to 
29, as the yearlings could not get a working combination 
in the forward line. Again the Senior guards, led by 
Jane Viehman, kept things well in check. 

Trailing this game, the Sophomores again came back 
into power as they submerged the Juniors, 52 to 44. 
Spectacular shots by the Juniors won applause as did 
the little push-up shots of the Sophomore combine. The 
Junior guards should be commended for they put up a 
valiant battle against the Sophomore advantage in height. 

Last Thursday, the 14th, the Sophomores tied the 
Seniors in the last quarter to end the game with the 
score, 32 to 32. Characterizing this contest was superb 
work on the part of the Senior guards but ineffectuality 
of their forward line while the Sophoinore guards capi- 
talized on every opportunity. 

The last class game of this year was the Junior-Fresh- 
man in which the Frosh finally hit their stride and sailed 
through 50 to 31. While the long shots of the Juniors 
were beautiful to see, so was the forv/ard attack of 
Black, Doerr, and Ross in their work under the basket. 

High Scorers 

Brice Black, Frosh 54 points 

Elaine Fitzwilson, Junior 47 points 

Peg Dunseath, Senior 45 points 

Gladys Patton, Junior 45 points 

Mockey Anderson, Soph 45 points 

Betty Hazeltine, Soph '. 41 points 

Caddie Lou Kinzer, Senior 34 points 

Mai-y Wolff, Senior 29 points 

Janet Ross, Frosh 27 points 

Julie Wells, Junior 20 points 

Page Eight 


March 20, 1940 


By Healey and Higgins 


By Betty Eastwood 

Some folks like the opera; And some like beer and skittles, 

Some folks like rings in their ears; And some like home- 
cooked vittles, 

But us, we'd live sans all these things, And still show 
great elation 

If every week would always be the start of Spring 

In the anecdotal vein (do you mind? and have you 
heard the one about the six PCW lassies who went to 
lunch at a local hamburger emporium, and when they 
went to pay the check, the counterman told them it had 
been taken care of by a local funeral director. When the 
girls came to, they decided that chivali-y is not dead. 
Incidentally, we might say that the lunch was on the 

Well, now for some specific items. It seems that the 
Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold, and his 
cohorts turned out to be the members of the W. & J. 
quadrille group. The resulting encounter put many 
hearts on the up-beat, including those of Janet Murray, 
Beth Howard, June Hunker, Nancy Scott and (dearl 
dear!) Ginnie McCune! 

And then Pitt came through with a progressive fra- 
ternity dance with PCW repi'esented at many houses. 
There were Betty Anne Baker and Janet Murray at the 
PiKA; Betty Hazeltine and Amy McKay at SAE; Jane 
Campbell at the Theta Xi; Jean Paris, Ginnie Speer at 
the Delta Tau; Alice Steinmark at the Phi Delt; Ruth 
Gilson and Eileen Wechsler at the S. A. M. house. Hail 
to Pitt! 

The University Club has replaced the P. A. A. as the 
favorite Saturday nitespot. Among the familiar faces 
therein recently have been those of Jean Burchinal, 
Madge Medlock, Betsy Colbaugh, Betty Sweeney, and 
Dottie Oliver; the latter busily touching all available 
door-knobs to get the electricity out of her skirt. 

Cyn Kuhn and Betty Ann Morrow are now members 
of the P. P. O. — one bejeweled with a W. & J. symbol 
and one with Pitt. Congrats. 

Signs of Spring — Anne Driver sitting out in front of 
Berry Hall — devoting a full hour to a cute Pitt hombre. 

Ella Hilbish doing her highly original version of the 
Spring Dance. 

Lois Haldeman going up to Allegheny's Junior Prom. 

Strawberries for dessert. (Now how the heck did they 
get in here?) Oh well, we'll go on to our weekly review 
of the mail, and we have Jean Miller still ignoring her 
continuous postal material from Westminster, and Mary 
Evelyn Ducey still not appreciative of the various special 
deliveries she receives. In the dorm, Mary Louise Henry 
still holds the long time record for excessive mail, and 
her mailmate is considering mayhem. 

That would seem to wind up ye column. We you 
the nicest of Spring Vacations, and so we say good- 
bye until April, when we'll be reviewing you. 

Wanted — A Cause 

So the war is over; all the shouting and all the pleas- 
ant benefit bridges, and the collecting of pennies in a 
little tin box. A lot of people are very sorry that Fin- 
land has given up the ghost. It was such a noble sound- 
ing cause for the dowager with the poodle, and the 
dilettante to sponsor. They have lost their plaything 
now. The money they collected with go to re-habilita. 
tion, but the fun is gone with the end of the firing. Sound 
and fury lent brillancy to the cause, and the dilettantes, 
not being social workers by nature, are bored with Fin- 
land now. They are looking for a new toy, and they will 
find it soon, on the western front, or somewhere else 
where men are dying as they died around Lake Ladoga, 
before the fun was over. 

My Cat Has Fleas 

They are taking a new census in our fair country this 
year. It used to be a simple and romantic matter, but 
romance has gone out of the census-taker's soul today, 
and human interest has taken its place. The days of, 
"How - many - people - live - here-thank-you-goodbye," are 
gone. This year we will not blink even if the census- 
taker inquires, "What color are your pajamas, or do you 
prefer prints?" The government has found it necessary 
to know everything about the people, to the embarrass- 
ment of a lot of Victorian souls. But I am all set for 
them. My cat has fleas, three of them. I shall tell them 

No Shadow This 

The stars faded from the Planetarium's sky. The nar- 
rator's voice was hushed. Out of the blackness, where 
the stars had been, three slender shadows rose; and a 
voice declaimed tlie crucifixion story. The shadows 
sharpened, three black crosses on a black hill. Then the 
central cross grew bigger as the others faded away. It 
rose up to the heavens where the stars had shone, hung 
a great and awful cloud over the world of the Planetari- 
um. The voice cried out, "There was darkness over all 
the earth from the third hour to the nith hour." 

The cross was too black, and the words too fearful. 
Our very breath was loud in the stillness before the nar- 
rator, sensing the nerves of his audience, touched the 
lever that turned the black cross radiant in the darkness 
and played the colored lights of the Easter "Awakening" 
around it. 

This was done in the Planetarium. Man made the 
machines and manipulated them to create a cross and to 
abolish it in a glory of flowers. But outside the safety 
of the Planetarium we face the living cross we have 
created. Good Friday comes with new significance as we 
see our heart's deep folly bare before our eyes. Black 
and heavy hangs the cross, in the clear night skies where 
stars should glow. This is no trick of lights. This is our 
sliame, and this we cannot wipe away with a touch. 
Our proud new strength does not go deep enough. Our 
self-sufficiency has failed us. 

March 20, 1940 


Page Nine 

In Disgrace With Fcrtune 

by Mary tverr, '41 

The kitchen would ha\-e delighted 
the most meticulous housekeeper. 
She would have been quick to ap- 
prove the cheerul white and blue 
walls along which rows ot shining 
copper saucepans were hung with 
precision, the immense aluminum 
kettles whose fat curves gleamed, 
the flat, easily cleaned metal surfac- 
es of the stove. Her critical eye 
would have detected no smudges on 
the freshly scrubbed blue linoleum 
of the floor nor could she have found 
fault with the polish of the heavy 
panes and broad brass frames of 
the curiously rounded windows. Un- 
der the sinks and workboards, there 
were bins of flour, sugai , salt, po- 
tatoes, and staple vegetables; there 
were shelves along the walls filled 
with preserved goods, spices, sauces 
and condiments; and several icebox- 
es held milk, butter, fruit, perishable 
vegetables and meats. There were 
even large extra cupboards in which 
cheeses, game, and wines were kept 
at suitable temperatures. Though the 
average housekeeper might have 
been confused by the unusual com- 
pactness of the kitchen (for the tow- 
el racks extended over the stove 
hood to bat at the head of an un- 
weary passer-by, and a heap of un- 
peeled potatoes lay perforce so near 
the stox'e that they were in danger 
of being roasted before they were 
in the pot), still she would ha\e felt 
amply compensated by being per- 
mitted to work in a kitchen that 
boasted automatic dishwashers and 
a radio. 

Unfortunately, the one in com- 
mand of this splendor was unim- 
pressed by it, even actually unhap- 
py. He was William Gladstone Dales, 
formerly of Murfreesville. Iowa, at 
present ship's cook aboard the S. S. 
Columbia. This super-luxurious lin- 
er was the pride ot Nisbett Cruise 
Lines. Inc.; it was advertised as 
bringing "the breath of adventure 
and romance into every thrill-pack- 
ed hour," yet William Dales moped 

He sat perched on a stool at his 
tiny desk near the door, frowning 
heavily over the menu for "riday's 
gala dinner. Seemingly he ^ras oc- 
cupied in considering whether or no 
Chicken livers en brochette a la 
Victorien Sardou was a trifle heavy 
for the prospective feast, but his 
mind was far away from such mun- 
dane matters. In reality, he looked 

upon himself and cursed his fate, 
for William Gladstone Dales was 
blood brother to all, from Keats to 
Kenneth Grahame, whose bodies are 
tied to dreary realities, but whose 
spirits soar beyond. For it was his 
fate to be a cook, and his ambition 
to be a true sailor, braving the ele- 
ments while at sea, and living with 
abandon while ashore. 

He cursed mournfully and [•licked 
the leg of his stool. After all, his 
present position was achieved with- 
out his consent, and in spite of all 
his effort. He had run away from 
his Iowa farm at the age of sixteen, 
attempting to sign as cabin-boy for 
the Nisbett Line under the impres- 
sion gained froin intensive reading 
of Masefield. Marryat, and Dana, 
that he was entering upon a ]Drom- 
ising career before the mast. Instead, 
he had been supplied with a red- 
and-gold uniform, and assigned the 
simple but uncongenial task of run- 
ning the elevators and delivering 
bon-voyage gifts in first-class. From 
elevator to cook's assistant was but 
a step, and now lor three years the 
embryo Nelson had been chief cook 
for the first-class dining room. 

He wrote in a steady hand "Pot- 
age Jardiniere aux croutons," and 
gazed out the porthole across the 
swelling water to the thin grey line 
ot land that was Panama. The ship 
would doclv in an hour near the en- 
trance to the Canal. Shore leave was 
the worst of all, he thought. Just two 
days ago, at St. George s in Ber- 
muda, he had suffered from the ig- 
nominy of his position. There was 
a certain little cafe, known to tour- 
ists and others of the uninitiate as 
the Harbour Tearoom, but famous 
among saUors for the Planters' 
Punches and the barmaids that dis- 
pensed tliem. Both were to be lound 
in the little room just behind the 
limp grey mosquito curtain, where 
unknown visitors were not encour- 
aged to penetrate. 

Sitting comfortably in this back 
room, he looked trimly naval in his 
unexceptionable white suit and vis- 
ored cap, and he had been enjoy- 
ing himself. He had been explain- 
ing the action of the Columbia's gy- 
rostabilizer to a personable young 
woman who responded to each fresh 
re\'elation with, "Gee, I don't see 
how you remember all that stuflf." 
All was going smoothly, and he was 
just warming to his subject over his 

lourth Planters' Punch, when that 
lousy scutt Judson, the third mate, 
had spoken up irom a nearby table 
to remark that he didn't see why a 
common cook tliought he Icnew any- 
thing about an engine, and that lie. 
Dales, had better take care not to 
get machine oil mixed in his salad 
dressing. Whereupon the young lady 
had withdrawn swiftly froin Wil- 
liam's table, and had gone over to 
Judson's, preferring to be entertain- 
ed by a "real sailor' than by "just 
an old cook." And the evening, be- 
gun so pleasantly, was ruined for 

The shore line was enlarging rap- 
idly, and the whitewashed blobs 
along the waterfront were looking 
less and less like doll houses, ana 
more and more like piers and ware- 
houses. Inside the kitchen, the cup- 
board doors clanged as bar stew- 
ards came down to restock the 
liquor supplies depleted by thirsty 
passengers. Although it was as yet 
only four o'clock, the cook's assist- 
ants hummed about William as they 
peeled and simmered and seasoned 
foods in preparation tor the first 
service of the evening meal. Wil- 
liam, sighing, swung down trom his 
perch and motioned to an under- 
study to take the finished menu to 
the chief steward for his approval. 
Gazing distastefully upon the order- 
ly confusion around him, he went 
over to the porthole. 

He could see Panama Joe's old 
place, a plain little wooden dive 
squatting down on the quay, its sheet 
tin roof shimmering in the after- 
noon sun. Fat chance for adven- 
ture there, with Joe yelling, "Oh, 
it's you back again. Cookie," as soon 
as he stepped through the fly-be- 
decked door. Or, what was lar 
worse, never saying a word, as one 
who would consider it beneath his 
dignity to notice the existence of a 
mere cook. But suppose, for instance, 
that he made a new start at the 
Tabarin, or the Port-au-Princ3. 
Maybe, for just one evening, tney 
would think that the wavy stripes 
on his sleeve meant Wireless Oper- 
ator, or even Second Engineer. In 
ten years at sea, he had picked up 
a large fund ot second-hand infor- 
mation, and a startling supply of 
stories of mutiny, fire, typhoon, and 
other disasters at sea. He would have 
one rip-roaring evening, get glor- 
iously drunk, flirt with every girl 

Page Ten 


March 20, 1940 

whose eyes he could catch. 

The door from the passage-way 
was pushed open abruptly. He turn- 
ed swiftly to business. The third 
mate was conducting a group of 
passengers on the daily tour of the 
ship. His voice carried easily above 
the industrious bustle of activity. 

"Here, ladies and gentlemen, you 
see the first-class dining room. In 
this room are the stores and equip- 
ment capable of furnishing a deli- 
cious and varied menu for tliree 
hundred passengers. Notice especial- 
ly the thermostatically controlled 
chambers for storing game and 
wines at their proper temperatures." 

The touring passengers assembled 
their laces to express suitable inter- 
est. One stout gentleman with a face 
apoplectic from combined heat and 
exertion expressed a desire to ex- 
change places with the champagne, 
and the group tittered dutifully. 
They filed slowly through the kit- 
chen, asked the usual questions, 
and filed slowly out again into the 
passage. One young lady stood on 
tiptoe to whisper something to the 
mate. He bent down politely, then, 
straightening up again, laughed 

"Oh, no, miss,' he exclaimed, 
■"He's not a sailor at all, really. He's 
just the chief cook." 

His laugh struclv straight to Wil- 
liam Dale's resentful soul. No, he 
thouglit as he turned to gaze at 
Panama Joe's little shack. I'm not a 
sailor at all, really. 

Spring Song 

Jean BurchinaL '42 

\j c\\ o, -V e e 15 «0 



For Discriminating Women 
JAckson 4086 5875 Forbes Street 

Let's Meet 

at the 

Debs Corner 

East End Store 
6018 Penn Avenue 

Spring vacation is leaving us en- 
tirely untouched this year, what 
with all the tasks that our dearly 
beloved l acuity has seen fit to im- 
pose upon our feeble minds. Just as 
we had thought of the coming en- 
thusiasm over the first crocus (if 
you have that type of spring enthu- 
siasm — we don t as a rule) we were 
rather forcibly reminded of work 
whicli, it seems, we were supposed 
to have been thinlving about since 
the beginning of the semester. We 
are now in that state in which, not 
Icnowing what to start first, we are 
doing nothing at all, except some 
practically professional worrying 
about the whole business. If you 
want any worrying done cheaply, 
come to us; we're temporarily in the 

Besides, spring is being announced 
this year with sub-zero weather (at 
least it feels to us as though it were 
sub-zero; we have very poor circu- 
lation) and sub-zero weather, while 
it has no effect whatsoever upon 
spring fever — which of course we 
have had since last September — is 
definitely detrimental to concentra- 
tion. And our concentration is not 
so good that we can afford to have 
it tampered with. All in all, we are 
very bitter about the whole thing 
and that frustrated loolc which you 
have no doubt seen on our puss is 
just a warning ot what we'll be 
wearing next weel^. We are start- 
ing a branch of the Gwouch Cwub 
in which we are President, Vice 
President, Secretary, Treasurer and 
honorary members, and if you want 
to join you can see us about it. The 
dues consist of one gwouch day a 
month, which you may worlv off all 
in one time or in pieces. 

Naturally, our snarls have result- 
ed in a correspondingly large num- 
ber of sales in the fine muzzles de- 
partment which our friend — we 
tliink we still have one left — has 
been supplying us with pretty stead- 
ily. They come in all the pastel 
shades and also in navy blue, which 
is such a good color this spring. 
Join the parade witji a muzzle and 
don't feel left out. We have bright- 
ened up .last Easter's outfit consider- 
ably with a lovely pinli muzzle 
which we picked up for next to 
notliing — or possibly it picl-ced us up. 
We're not quite sure of ourself at 
this point. 

No doubt you think that w^ork is 

a pretty feeble excuse for an ad- 
vanced state of anti-socialism such 
as we are sporting, and you may be 
right, but we can produce plenty of 
other reasons upon request, and ac- 
tually you don't even have to re- 
quest, we produce them anyway. 

Confidentially, we are sick with 
apprehension of those annual good 
sports who look wide awake some 
morning at eight-thirty (personally, 
you can't even convince us that it's 
light at that time, and it's no good 
trying to prove it because we can t . 
open our eyes until at least twelve) I 
and breeze in saying that they've ' 
just heard the first robin, a really 
true sign of spring, and the little « 
green buds are starting to peep from I 
their winter beds. Sniff, sniff. Doesn't 
the spring air smell wonderful? Now 
possibly the spring air does smell a 
little different, though we personal- 
ly doubt it, but you just can't con- 
vince us that either the very first 
robin or the little peeping buds are 
worth mentioning. They perform 
the'r ratlier revolting functions every 
spring and we'd just rather not hear 
about them this spring at least. 
Sometimes, in our more accessible 
moments, we suppose that perhaps 
these chronic enthusiasers are may- 
be to be envied since each of nature's 
time-worn tricl'is makes such an im- 
pression on them, but as soon as we 
return to normal we realize how 
much more fortunate we are who 
can just wear an air of boredom 
and look nature straight in the eye 
as we say scornfully, "Pooh, we've 
seen that before." You can just bet 
that nature wilts under our scorn. 
"Haven't you anything new? " we 
say and Nature hangs her head and 
slinks away in slrame. It's the feel- 
ing of superiority that does it. 

Well, anyway, we just wanted you 
to know how we feel about the 
whole business and if you feel so 
inclined you may join either the 
aforementioned Gwouch Club or 
our recently-organized Anti-Every- 
thing society. Both are worthy insti- 
tutions and well-worth looking in- 
to. But right now we have to go be- 
cause we saw in the paper where 
some one saw a robin tlie other day 
in Highland Park and we want to 
dash off and see if we can see anoth- 
er. The robin is really the first sign 
of spring, you know, and soon the 
little green things will be coming 
up. Isn't it all just wonderful? 

March 20, 1940 


Page Eleven 

Mqv€ Helcnc 

i-' * * 

. by Helen Moon Chongr '40 

Just as when 1 first saw her. 
Mother Superior carried herself 
with the same hauteur and erect- 

"Very well, follow me," was all 
she said after the brief greeting. The 
thumb and forefinger of her left 
hand were nei-vously caressing the 
ring on the fourth finger of the oth- 
er hand It is only tliese two fingers 
that made me believe she was a hu- 
man being, just like everybody else, 
made of blood and flesh. Her long, 
deformed shadow seemed to have 
molested her, to be out of place. She 
quickly moved into the shade. 

The hard cement ground turned 
into water under her feet, she was 
actually floating; panting with dif- 
ficulty after her, 1 felt clumsy and 
out of breath. The hallway was long 
and gloomy, the very air smelled 
death and said hush. After a long' 
flight of stairs and two left turns, 
she stopped abruptly in front of a 
small door. 

"This is where you study with 
mere Helene. Can you find your way 
by yourself tomorrow?" While 
knocking with one hand, she turned 
the knob with the other. 

"Bon jour, Helene, your new pu- 
pil." Some unknown hands pulled 
the two corners of her mouth a lit- 
tle upward; with a nod and light 
push on my shoulder, she vanished 
and the door was closed. 

"Bon jour, ma chere." Mere Hel- 
ene was standing beside a long 
wooden thing, which looked like the 
counter in a bar, but ser\'ed as a 
cupboard in this room. The white 
robe, which made Mother Superior 
look like a surgeon beside an oper- 
ating table, looked soft and less se- 
vere on mere Helene. A square table, 
covered with an old thin rug, two 
chairs, a reproduction of "Ecce 
Homo," and a calendar with many 
little fishes were the sole furniture 
and decorations of this room beside 
that strange looking cupboard. 

The window was open, letting in 
rays of sunshine. The vine on tlie 
outside of the wall peeped carelessly 
in. Spring was in the air. Whether it 
was because of the light or the oc- 
cupant of the room or something 
else, there was life in this room, very 
unlike the long hallway from w^hich 
it led. 

"Will you take your coat off? It is 
warm today. Spring is here. I was 

just listening to tlie little birds, tliey 
were trying so hard to make music. 
Can you understand me?" Mere 
Helene laughed, "1 always talk so 

We started our lesson with gram- 
mar and essay. I never liked gram- 
mar, but with mere Helene and hei 
patient and smiling eyes, it seemed 
to be easy and interesting. We were 
both laughing, I was in a new world, 
far, far away from the other one. I 
could never forget those two eyes of 
hers; they were kind and misty, per- 
petually smiling and full of story. 

It was the fourth month since I 
first entered that little room. Tlie 
lieavy winter coats were either iti 
the cleaning shops or put into stor- 
age. At night, little insects began to 
seemed to have changed. They 
intrude every corner and everybody. 
For a few days more Helene's eyes 
seemed to be larger and brigliter — 
a brightness not from joy. but fear 
and desire. The mist wliich made 
them loolv smiling was gone. My les- 
son went on as usual, but the sense 
of duty increased, thus pleasure les- 

It was a Tuesday, miserable day, 
hot. stuffy and dark. The rain just 
poured when I reached the staircase. 
Mere Helene was standing facing the 
window, wliich was wide open, and 
b-g rain drops strode in proudly. 
They landed on the v/indow-sill, on 
the floor; on mere Helene's dress 
and face, some of them even reached 
the cupboard. A gust of wind turned 
a few leaves ol tlie book on the desk 
when I opened the door. Mere 
Helene closed the window and turn- 
ed. Her face was red as if she had a 
fever. Tlie "bon jour" was uttered, 
but almost in a whisper. 

She had a picture in her hands — 
she was holding it as if the person 
in the picture were breathing. Slie 
remained in the same place. Strange 
but true enough, I had not brought 
her back to reality yet. I laid my 
books down lightly; the majestic 
sound of the rain drops was play- 
ing a symphony; evei-y slight motion 
or sound seemed impetuous. Mere 
Helen murmured "Sit douoi, ma 
chere," and moved toward the cup- 
board where in a book the picture 
was deposited. I could hear her 
breath and the rustling of her dress. 
She sat down, but the rustle remain- 
ed and could never be ceased again. 
How tremulous and tremendous it 

was under the seemingly quiet sur- 

Before I left, she aslved me if I had 
an umbrella and kissed me very af- 

"I shall see you tomorrow," was 
all I said "Tomorrow," she echoed 
and here eyes were again far away. 
They were looking at me. but they 
were not looking at me. 

I saw her the next day. It was a 
sunny day, but damp. Lessons were 
really lessons from that time on. 

It was a nice day in October; I 
found mere Helene again standing 
facing the window. The lesson was 
painful. I tried to break tlie atmo- 
sphere of dismay, but in a few min- 
utes time, my tongue was tied. At 
last she went to the window, saying 
she had a headache. I decided I bet- 
ter take my leave. When opening 
the door, I was stopped. 

"Mother Superior might see you, 
please don't go." She had been cry- 
ing. I went to her and she took me 
into her arms. Her wet face was 
against mine, it was feverish and hot. 
Suddenly "Ecce Homo" caught my 
eyes, it in-itated me. The wind was 
brisk, but it could not dry her eyes. 

I did not go for my lessons for 
tliree days. On the fourth day Moth- 
er Superior informed me that I was 
going to have my lessons with mere 
Rudolph. I had seen mere Rudolph 
many times: on the stairs and in 
the hallway, a peculiar sort of per- 
son and I never lilved her. I had dic- 
tation and was not prepared, she 
spoke with a provincial accent and 
was hard to understand. "She '- no: 
fit," was all the news I could get 
about mere Helene. 

Befoi-e I came down the stairs, I 
saw two candle lights reflected on 
the window chapel. I peeped in 
and saw a white kneeling figure with 
head bowed low. It was mere Helene. 


You have only two more 
chances to see your work 

in print in 

The Arrow 

Page T\vel\-e 


March 20, 1940 

Th€ College Spoon Tradition 

C€tty Eastujcodr '4C 

They tell me college girls are 
shiftless now, in this twentieth cen- 
tury. "What do you do, you college 
girls?" they say. "What do you care 
about, but men and clothes and 
drinking cokes by the hour in drug 
store booths. Wasting time." They 
have seen our tousled hair, and tired 
eyes, and the ash tray piled high 
with butts with lipstick on them. So 
they have scorned us, ankle-socli- 
clad students, and called us worth- 

There are things they have over- 
looked, intentionally perhaps, which, 
if they had noticed them, might 
have changed their idea of us. The 
books on the floor beside us — did 
they notice them? Did they see the 
titles of the texts we carry? Shake- 
speare and Victorian Prose, and St. 
Thomas Aquinas, big heavy vol- 
umes, lie on the flat, black leather 
notebook. In another pile is Zola; 
and a copy of "The Making of the 
Modern Mind, ' has fallen . rom the 
top and lies open, strewing papers 
on which are written verses in 
heavy black ink. There is a copy of 
Kant's "Critiques" , beside, "Mein 
Kamp," and several small thin vol- 
umes in foreign languages. There is 
a Bible, too. They all lie on the floor 
forgotten for the moment, and we 
are drinking Coca Cola. 

The careless obser\-er has con- 
demned the drinks and the cigar- 
ettes, he has not stopped to listen 
to what we say. He has seen that 
we have been here an hour and 
thinks we are lazy. "Talking of 
men," he says, and perhaps he is 
right. Perhaps we are silly now as 
our laughter rings out, and four 
pairs of young shoulders shalve. But 
what wrong is there in laughter? He 
sees tliat our fingernails are scarlet 
and our lips too red. "Callous, or 
unthinlving," he decides, and he 
shalves his head. He does not linow 
that while we are sitting here we 
are happy. He does not know we are 
not alone. Perhaps if he Ivnew that 
he would want to join us. Who can 

It is at the end of the day tliat we 
meet. We come from our classes and 
irom tlie library, and walk together 

down the hill to the street. The noise 
of the city is harsh in our ears after 
the quiet of the campus, and the 
street cars whip dust against our 
cheeks. On the cold afternoons ol 
winter when the black trees were 
heavy with snow, our walk was si- 
lent because the world was still. 
Now, as the spring is near, we speak 
with hushed voices, strolling in the 
hushed hal -light before the eve- 
ning. We often do not talk as we 
go. There is that utter weariness of 
the end of the day that requires 
quiet and the cool balm of the out- 
of-doors to order our thoughts be- 
fore we speak very much. By the 
time we have reached the drug 
store the need tor silence has passed. 

We troop in to a booth and drop 
the heavy weight of books from our 
arms, and we order Coca-Colas and 
light four cigarettes from one match. 
At first we do not speak very se- 
riously. The conversation comes in 
fragments. "I have a paper to write 
tonight," says one. "We have fin- 
ally got to the heart of Sartor Re- 
sartus," says another. Then the tall, 
lithe girl with the dark eyes is 
drawing a diagram on a napkin. "See 
this is the way the dance will go." 
Three heads bend close as she ex- 
plains. Three heads nod approval. 
The drinks have arrived now and 
the talking has begun in earnest. Of 
what do we speak? There are many 
things. We talk of our courses, of 
philosophy, the Hedonist conception 
of pleasure, of Zola's style of writ- 
ing, of the Triune God. The subjects 
come and go as we sit together. 

The important thing is not that 
we say things that will startle the 
world, not that our conclusions may 
be noteworthy. It is that we are 
friends and we sit together in quiet 
companionship. At the end of the 
day our separate paths have come 
together. We will part again and go 
to our respective homes alone. Some 
of us will find there an interest in 
our work and a stimulation to dis- 
cussion. Some will find misunder- 
standing, or lack of interest. But 
even where there is some under- 
standing there will not be the free 
play of thought that comes here in 
the drug store, where opinions are 
aired and listened to with sympathy 
and no anger. For the moment we 
are not alone, but at peace in friend- 
ship. We can get our jumbled 
thoughts and impressions smoothed 


out and go home alone with a clearer 
idea of what we have learned and 
what we have come to think. 

There is a tradition behind our 
drug store meetings which the ob- 
server who scoffs at us has missed, 
as much as he has overlooked our 
books on the floor. But for our dress, 
and the cigarettes, and the Coca- 
Colas, we might be far away in time, 
in another land, at another period of 
history. This custom of meeting for 
discussion over drinks has come 
down through the years, and wher- 
ever there have been students they 
have been lound at such occupa- 
tion. If we care to trace to the ear- 
liest source of the practise we would 
have to go to Socrates and his band 
of followers chatting on the street 
corners in ancient Greece. We might 
follow the trail to Peter Abelard in 
the eleventh century, with the group 
of young men who followed him in- 
to the country, leaving the school 
from which he had been banished. 
We would trace it to modern Europe 
where coffee-houses supply a place 
for study and discussion among stu- 
dents, or to certain American college 
towns where the fate of the world 
is settled by young men over the 
beer mugs. 

Because this tradition lives in us, i 
because we recognize the mental ^ 
stimulation and relaxation that 
comes from our hour over the Coca- 
Colas, we are not ashamed of be- | 
ing called shiftless. True enough, we 1 
smoke too much, and our eyes are 
tired and our hair disheveled. True, 
we clutter the floor with our books, 
and sprawl at the tables. But we 
can not suffer ourselves to be too 
much condemned. We may not be- 
come great thinkers because w^e "Go 
for a coke" each afternoon, but 
without the talk, the clarifying of is- 
sues, the friendliness, we would not 
have learned to think and to argue 
logically. We would be more absorb- 
ing agents, than digesters, of 
thought. We waste our time for an 
hour and arise refreshed. If the per- 
son who condemns us would but look 
beneath the cigarettes and the lip- 
stick, beneath the scarlet nails and 
the ankle socks, he might learn to 
see what is there; the student mind 
of all the ages, eager and receptive. 
Then he would forgive us every- J 
thing and be thankful, as we are, | 
that the twentieth century has pro- 
duced college girls and Coca-Cola. 

March 20, 1940 


Page Thirteen 





Helen Hecht, '41 

Pennsylvania College or Women 
was founded in 1869 as Pennsylvania 
Female College. Since that memor- 
able year, more things than just the 
name have changed. The following 
is a brief resume by years of the 
transitions which changed the Young 
Female, into a Woman Student. 

In 1871 James Black was president 
of the College. Board, including 
furnished room, fuel and light, etc., 
and tuition was $200 a session, and 
tuition for day students was $40 a 
session. Then, as now, however, all 
bills were payable in advance. Min- 
isters' daughters received a 25 per 
cent deduction on their bill. The 
trustees were having a meeting to 
decide upon "a suitable diess for 
drill in gymnastic exercises, and the 
government of the institution was 
intrusted to "the President, Profes- 
sors and Instructors." The residence 
was "a Gothic structure," built to 
provide the greatest comfort possible 
for the "inmates." 

In 1872 Rev. John Gillespie, A.M., 
was Professor of Mental Science, and 
the Rev. John G. Brown lectured on 
"Deal Mute Instruction. ' Lizzie 
Black was the first name on the Jun- 
ior roll, and the President was Rev. 
Thomas C. Strong, D.D. 

In 1874-5 the young ladies began 
to receive callers if accompanied by 
the proper credentials, and physical 
culture was given a definite place 
in thj curriculum. Strangers in town 
were requested to get information 
at the Union Depot from Messrs. 
Pitcairn ana Strole, authorized by 
the college to deliver Daggage and 
direct all personages to the Institu- 

In 1878-9 Miss Helen Pelletreau 
was President, and the roster includ- 
ed one young lady from Missouri, 
one from Texas and two from West 
Virginia. The ministers' daughters' 
reduction was cut to 10 per cent. 

In 1880-1 Messrs. Pitcairn and 
Sprole were still functioning, and 
the architecture was still Gothic. 

In 1882 parents were requested to 
prepare their "daughters' wardrobe 
fully before leaving home." 

In 1886-7 parents were "earnestly 
requested to limit their daughters' 
spending money," and Col. William 
Stone lectured on "Idle Hours of 
4rmy Life" 

In 1890-1 Dilworth Hall was com- 

A medley of early evening noises 
swelled the tiny kitchen. Outside 
there were the raucous voices of 
the workers passing homeward and 
the shuffle of their feet; there was 
the jangle of the trolleys, starting 
and stopping e\'ery few seconds; 
there was an occasional automobile 
horn, a brake, a slammed door. In- 
side, there was the measured drop, 
drop of water from the spigot, to 
the brownish stained spot in the 
sink, and thence slowly trickling, to 
the rusty drain. There was the in- 
termittent buzz ol the several eve- 
ning flies, who came and went free- 
ly through the jagged hole in the 
screen door, and who hovered with 
cheerful comaraderie over the 
crumbs and dried cheese rinds up- 
on the worn drain board. The clock 
which stood on the windowsill, half 
buried in the folds of the soiled cur- 
tain, breathed faint but regular 
ticks. The late afternoon heat lay 
like a leaden hand over all the at- 

pleted and ready for occupancy, and 
the Alumnae donated cathedral glass 
windows to the auditorium. The Sen- 
ior readin,; course rerjiared that the 
Seniors "read critically ' the Ode on 
Immortality, Macaulay's Essay on 
Milton and George Eliot's Clerical 
Scenes. Parents were told that if 
they "furnish a large amount of 
spending money, the college will not 
be held responsible." Messrs. Sprole 
and Pitciairn were replaced by the 
Standard Cab Company, and the 
Rev. W. R. MacKay, D.D., lectured 
OR "The Good Old Times." 

In 1894-5 Miss Jennie DeVor was 
President and the telephone was in 
to stay. 

In 1900 came the Y. W. C. A. and 
a college wagonette. 
1900-40 No comment. 

mosphere; it was the breathless mo- 
ment before the evening wind arose. 
Through the flimsy screen door 
there floated the smell of cooked 
cabbage and bacon. Through the 
hall door, on the opposite side of 
the room came an odor of stale cigar 
smoke and sweat and ancient dust. 
Somewhere dowm the hall a thin 
voice could be heard chanting mon- 
otonously and sorrowfully. At the 
screen door a young woman stood, 
her hands pressed against either side 
of the door, and her right foot mov- 
ing the dingy red carpet back and 
forth lazily. 

She was watching the passing 
traffic, especially the workmen, with 
a look of irritable contempt. Soon 
he would come, she thought, dirty, 
unshaven, surly. He would expect 
his dinner and it would not be ready 
and he would snarl at her laziness. 
She rubbed with her foot at a greasy 
spot on the carpet. Any one of these 
men might be he; they looked so 
much alike, all with smoky faces 
and dark blotches of perspiration on 
the backs of their blue shirts. Her 
hand clenched involuntarily. To have 
to live with him thirty, maybe forty 
more years! Her full lips curled with 
disgust. This stinking hovel — Jeff 
had called it a pig-sty. She thought 
of Jeff, with his quick laughter, his 
gay banter. He would take her out 
of this squalor. He had said he loved 
her. If she could only get away 
somehow — to Jeff, away from the 
heat and the dirt and Matt. She 
could take her things to his room; 
they could go away somewhere. He 
had asked her to come. 

Matt would have to get along the 
best he could. There would be noth- 
ing he could do about it once she 
had gone. It would be a jolt to him, 
he depended upon her for so much, 
but he would have to get over it. 
She thought of his clumsy overtures. 
the eager look that sometimes came 


Johnston The Florist! 

MOntrose 7777 


5841 FORBES ST. • 
HAzel 1012 j 

Page Fourteen 


March 20, 1940 

to his dull eyes. She recoiled from 
the memory of his rough calloused 

Jeff — Jeff had asked her to come; 
her heart beat quicls;ly. There would 
be money to buy things; there would 
be no worlv to do. Jeff had smooth 
hands; his lips were soft. 

One of the blue shirted worl'cmen 
separated from the rest and turned 
in toward the screen door. A surge 
of hatred went through her at the 
sight of him. She moved away fiom 
the dcor and turning toward the 
cupboard began examining the con- 
tents of a coffee can. The man sighed 
as he entered the kitchen. 

"Well, Lolly, here I am. Another 
day over." He put his tin lunch box 
upon the drain board. She glanced 
at him without answering and then 
back again at the coffee that she 
was measuring into the large dented 
coffee pot. He went toward the hall 
door, unbuttoning his diity blue 
shirt as he walked. 

"I guess we don't eat around here 
anymore," he laughed a little. "I 
should think you could have some- 
thirg ready once in a while w^hen I 
get home." His voice came muffled 
from the next room. 

"Oh, it will be ready in a minute." 
She could not conceal the distaste 
in her voice. "Anyone would think I 
had nothing to do but wait on you." 
She emptied cans of beans and to- 
matoes into great blackened pans 
and placed them on the stove. Thir- 
ty or forty more years — of this! The 
soft coolness of the evening outside 
the door called to her. The radio 
down the hall sobbed "Chloe" — "love 
is calling me — I gotta go where you 

Tonight — when he read his news- 
paper under the hot yellow lamp in 
the bedroom. He needn't know where 
she was going. A few moments to 
collect one or two things and then 
she would be free. A short wait lor 
the trolley down the street, a short 
ride and she would be with Jeff. 
And Matt would never know. She 
felt a surge ot pride that slie had 
never mentioned Jeff to Matt. 

He came back into the kitchen 
and sat down on a stool at the table. 
He had changed his blue shirt for 
a stained white sweatshirt. He had 
washed the soot from his face and 
it looked pale in the graying light. 
She lelt a moment ot tenderness for 
him as she placed his thicl-; plate of 
food in front of him. It was a dirty 
trick to run out on him. She would 
be specially nice to liim this last 

evening. She leaned over impulsively 
and kissed him on his forehead. He 
caught her hand as she turned away. 

"Lolly — you haven't done that in 
a long time. What — " 

"Why, don't be silly!" She laughed 
prettily. "You are my husband aren't 
you?" A shade of fear chilled her 
for a second. Her husband, whom 
she was going to leave. Jeff, who 
could never be her husband. The 
man at the table regarded her half- 
curiously and then began eating 
like a hungry animal. He was an 
animal, she thought, and the fear 
left her. 

After they had eaten, they went 
into the small stifling bedroom, he to 
read his newspaper, and she to 
change her dress. As she hung up 
her gingham house dress he looked 
up quizzically. Another wave of ten- 
derness for Inm swept her. He was 
so weary, so tense looking under that 
glaring light. 

"Oh, by the way," she said cas- 
ually. "I just thought I'd run down 
the street to the movie. There's 
something there I want to see. You 
won't mind will you. 

"Whj', no — why, no, not at all," he 
said slowly. "I'd go too, but I guess 
I'm too tired." 

She crossed over to him and 
smoothed the hair back from his 
forehead. "That's right, you stay 
home and rest up lor tomorrow.'' 
She combed her hair before the 
darkened mn-ror. She put a large silk 
handkerchief and a small bottle ot 
toilet water into her purse and then, 
hesitating a moment, sire took oft' her 
thm wedding ring and with a care- 
luUy concealed gesture placed it 
in the front of the dresser drawer. 
He would find it there. It wasn't fair 
not to let him know at least that 

At the doorway she paused and 
glanced back. He was looking at her 
wistfully. Did he know? Could he 
possibly know? No, that was foolish. 
There wasn't any way he could. 
"Goodnight — Matt." She said it more 
gently than she had ever spoken to 
him before. As she passed through 

the dirty kitchen she thought. "Oh, 
why didn't I at least do the ainner 
dishes?" A sense of the loneliness he 
would have to face came to her as 
she stood for a moment at the 
screen door and heard the weary 
ticking of the clock in silence. 

She walked swiftly down the 
street, the cool wind lifting her hair 
Irom her neck. The thought of Jeff 
drove every other thought from her 
mind. In so short a time she would 
be with him. At last she had done 
the thing she had thought about sO' 
long. And Jeff — what would he say? 
How would he act? What if — a sud- 
den cold terror made her heart 
pound swiftly. What if he didn't 
want her, really, at all? What if he 
had only been playing around? What 
if — but that couldn't happen. She 
wouldn't think of that. He had meant 
what he said; he must have. She 
stood beneath the street light on J 
the corner and waited for the trol- ^ 
ley. Her finger felt strangely bare 
without the thin ring. But she was 
free! Free of Matt and the dirty 
hovel. She trembled with excite- 

The trolley was coming, jangling 
and rocking from side to side. It 
would stop once more and then it 
would stop for her. "Jeff — Jeff," she 
breathed softly. The hand that 
searched in her purse for a coin 
shook slightly. 

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6026 Center Avenue East End 

March 20, 1940 


Page Fifteen 

Time Changes 

ISancy Over, '40 

"Hello, Joe, what d'yuh know?" 
asked Norma as she slid between the 
stools at the counter of the best 
hamburger joint in town. "Let's see, 
I want two hamburgers, a shot of 
Old Overholt and a beer." 

Joe yelled out to the kitchen, "two 
burgs." Norma could see the cook 
as he slapped two chunks of red 
meat into the skillet and stood pen- 
sively playing with them as they 
fried. She took deep drags of a ci- 
garette while she v/aited impatient- 
ly for her dinner. Joe placed the 
shot and the beer before her, saying: 
"Norma, if you're gonna' drink, why 
do you have to drink this stuff? It's 
enough to rio the lining right out of 
your stomach." 

Norma nervously flicked ashes 
from her cigarette with her little 
finger and poured the shot into the 
beer in defiance of the bartender. 
"Why're you playin' nursemaid to 
me now, wise guy? Why didn't you 
start eight years ago?" 

"You and the girl who came in 
here eight 3'ears ago are as different 
as day and night. Norm I You're 
hard, brazen, know your way around. 
She was as helpless as a new-born 
babe and as plain as an old shoe, 
dragging that patent leather suitcase 
with her." 

"He's off again," thought Norma 
as she listened absentmindedly ■ to 
Joe while he preached one of his 
many sermons. She hated him for 
frightening her. She had changed, 
she admitted it herself. In the mir- 
ror before her she stared at the deep 
circles under her lifeless eyes, the 
prominent wrinkles on her forehead 
and the lines at the corners of her 
mouth. She knew that her makeup 
was too flashy, her dress too bright, 
but there was nothing that she could 
do about it. "Why doesn't Joe lay 
off nagging? He knows that it won't 
get him any place," she thought. 
"I've made a mistake — but, hell, 
what am I going to do about it?" 
Gradually, her old cynicism reap- 
peared as she sipped her beer and 
lighted another cigarette. 

Norma bit into the hamburger; 
lipstick red catsup oozed out along 
the edge of the bun. She chewed 
happily and tried to decipher the 
neon signs as their reflections lighted 
up the mirror every other second. 
The smoke in the diner looked like a 
fog rising as it floated lightly toward 
the ceiling. After Norma finished 
her beer and hamburger she took a 

final drag of her cigarette and put 
it out in her plate. She exhaled 
lazily as she brushed the crumbs 
from her lap. As she placed money 
on the counter for her dinner she 
heard a familiar, vibrant voice say- 
ing: "Hi, Joe, how's the boy? Mak- 
ing any money? How about a coffee 
and a couple of doughnuts?" 

As Norma turned to leave the 
counter her arm brushed a well- 
worn leather brief case that the man 
had placed beside him when he sat 
down. "My, God, it's Tim." she 
thought as the dim gold letters seem- 
ed to jump out at her, twice their 
normal size. She spelled out "Tim- 
othy Horner. Fostoria Glass Co.. 
Junction. Ohio.'' Once, twice, three 
times, fascinated by the sound of the 
words. Norma drew her eyes away 
from the brief case and saw in the 
mirror that Tim was looking at her. 
Their eyes met for an instant and in 
that instant Norma hoped that he 
would recognize her and at the same 
time prayed that he would not. 

She rushed from the diner as a 
thousand memories of Junction came 
up before her eyes. She could see 
Tim as he looked eight years ago, 
tall, sunburned, good looking. They 
had been in love — but her family 
didn't approve because Tim was only 
the Johnson's hired man. They were 
forbidden to see each other, but they 
went on meeting, hoping, planning, 
secretly, always secretly. Moonlight 
canoe rides, swimming in the creek, 
meeting in town on Saturdays for a 
soda at the comer drug store. Then, 
her father had found out and told 
her that since she could not be 
trusted she wouldn't be allowed to 
leave the house unless someone went 
with her. At first Norma had beeri 
passively morose and moody. Then, 
unable to stand it any longer, she 
had run away. She spent half of her 
savings for her bus fare to the city, 
the other half dwindled rapidly un- 
til she was eating only one meal a 
day. Sometimes, she was lucky even 
to get that. 

Her high heels clicked rhythymic- 
ally on the street. A cool, sharp 
breeze blew her hair over her face. 
Shaking her head she looked at the 
airplane beacon on a building down 
the street and wondered how many 
thousand times it had flashed out its 
lucid signals. A tall man hunched 
over a newsnaDer trying to read it 
by the dim light of a store window. 

"Once," mu^ed Nonna, "he wasn't 
good enoush for me and now ..." 

Love Song 

Marianne McCallister, '40 

The two, girl and boy, had climb- 
ed the hill hand in hand. Now they 
stood in the meadow, which topped 
the hill, and looked across the lake 
at the little tufts of islands whose 
rocky surfaces held one single rag- 
ged pine tree jutting crookedly out 
of the rock, and a clump of juniper 
bushes. Above them the sky was 
almost terribly blue — and it was 
high, high above them. When they 
looked up they felt as if they were 
floating off into space. The tall 
grass on the meadow around them 
leaned with the wind, as if the earth 
were brushing her hair. At the edge 
of the field was a rocky cliff which 
seemed too steep to descend, but the 
boy and the girl found a path which 
led them to a spot where the rocks 
had lormed a wide seat which was 
lined with dry grass and lichen. It 
was a seat which had been discov- 
ered over and over by those with 
solitary thoughts, artists, and boys 
and girls such as these two. It 
seemed, with the clear water be- 
low them, the sky above them, and 
the rocks around them, to be a place 
remote from all other people. 

For a long time, after they had 
settled themselves into the niche, 
neither spoke. Finally, the boy, 
keeping his voice soft as if he ^ve^e 
afraid his natural tone would waken 
the sleeping rock, said, "Look, how 
clear the water is down there." 

The girl looked down with a half 
smile and said "Yes. you could al- 
most count the rocks, if you wanted 

"Only I don t want to," the boy 
almost whispered. 

The girl leaned back smiling, not 
against the rock, but, as his arms di- 
rected her, against his shoulder. She 
snuggled against him happily, and 
smiled up to the sky. "It's so very 
blue " she murmured, and then, be- 
cause he did not answer her, she 
turned her head to look at him. He 
was looking down at her with eyes 
that were deep -with longing and 
hope. Before she could turn her 
head away, he was kissing her with 
all the hope and longing, that had 
been in his eyes. 

He drew back and looked at her, 
and his look rising from her eyes 
to her hair was almost a tangible 
caress. "You're so lovely," he 

"You encourage me when you can 
say that in broad day light," she 

Page Sixteen 

laughed softly, and he drew her 
closer to him, laughing with her. So 
they stayed for a long moment. She 
looked up to see what he was think- 
ing, and again he kissed her, this 
time almost cruelly — then gently, 
just brushing her lips with his. 

The girl drew away and slipped 
out of his arms and, leaning against 
the rock, folded her arms as if she 
were hugging herself. "It's so love- 
ly," she sighed. 

"Wliat?" he asked, taking her 

"Oh, I don't know, every thing. 
This lovely spot, even that poor, 
' old, half-starving pine. That was 
put there J or me — no for us." 

"Silly, why for us?" 

"For us to look at. Might be for 
a bird to nest in, but I thinlv it was 
mostly for us to look at." 

They both laughed, and he drew 
her back into his arms, and kissed 
her with a soft long kiss. She drop- 
ped her head to his chest and he 
rested his cheelv against her hair. 
And so they stayed, until a moment 
later, a voice hallowed from the 
middle of the lake, "We see you." 

They looked out at the small sail 
boat, then back at each other. The 
boy took one last, fleeting kiss, then 
they both jumped to their feet, and 
laughing, waved to their interrupt- 
ing friends. 

"They'll tease us," the boy said 
smiling, "but we won't mind, will 

"No," said the girl, smiling too, 
"we won't mind." 

Then they scrambled back up the 
rocks, and raced each other back to 
the rest of the world. 


March 20, 1940 

This is what results from 
reading sad stories in the 
Arrow (sad meaning tears) 

Around my eyes 

There's much Humidity 

My heart is left with 
Great Algidity 

For our tales are full 

Of Acridity 
And nothing but Sordidity 

So let us with all Rapidity 

Rid ourselves 
Of this Rigidity 

Perhaps it is Flaccidity 

To long for more Placid'ty 

But, honestly, to me Morbidity 
Is nothing but Stupidity 


— By— 


— On— 


New York $12.15 St. Louis $20.20 

Chicago 15.25 Cleveland 4.50 

Philadelphia 9.90 Detroit 9.90 



Phone GRant 5700 



6010 Penn Avenue 

MOntrose 2144\ 



} Dressmaking Alterin 

g Remodeling \ 



MOntrose 2155 | 



Pennsylvania College for Women, Pittsburg-h, Pa., April 17, 19^*" 

Things To Come 

Page Two 


April 17, 1940 


Idea of a University 

Pennsylvania College for Women 
Pittsburgh, Pa. 

Subscription $1.00 per year in advance 

1939 Member 1940 

P^ssocided CoUebiorte Press 


National Advertising Service, Inc. 

College Publishers Representative 
420 Madison Ave. New York. N. Y. 

ckicago • boston • los angeles • san francisco 

Editorial Staff 

Co-Editors Betty Eastwood. '40 

Rachel Kirk. *40 

Business Manager Ruth Fite. '40 

News Editor Nancy Over, '40 

Assistant News Editor Dorothy Evans. '42 

Feature Editor Jo Anne Healey, '41 

Literary Editors Renee Schreyer, '40 

Jean Miller, '42 

Copy Editor Claire Stewart. '42 

Make-up Editor Katherine Rutter, '40 

Assistant Make-up Editor Margaret Wragg. '43 

Staff Photographer Catherine Thompson, '40 

Proof Readers Jean Hammer, '41 

Louise Haldeman, *43 
Claire Horwitz. '43 

Copy Readers Rosemarie Filippelli. '43 

Marjorie Noonan, '43 
Faculty Advisor Hazel C. Shupp 

News Staff 

Jane Evans. Dorothy Marshall, Lucille Cummins, Jean Sweet, Marion 
Rowell. Helen Waugh, Margaret Anderson. Mary Ann Mackey, Betty 
Ann Morrow. Marian Lambie. 

Feature Staff 

Helen Schellkopt. Mildred Stewart. Jean Burchinal. Althea Lowe. 
Betty Brown. Mary Louise Henry. Jeanne Anne Ayres, Mary Evelyn 
Ducey, Janet Ross. Betty Crawford. 

Business Staff 

Betty Bacon. Alison Croft, Peggy Dietz, Jane Filzpatrick, Eleanor 
Garrett. Virginia Gillespie, Marjorie Higgins. Beth Howard, Jane 
McCall. Mary Jane McCormick, Nancy Scott, Gloria Silverstein, Mary 
Singer, Bizzy Ward. Lois Wirth. 

Jottings in the Margin 

The only way to tell that spring has really come 
around here is to count new fraternity pins and Keep Off 
The Grass signs ... In spite of the veneer of sophistica- 
tion and love of humanity that we all believe we have 
acquired, there is something in the accounts of the great 
battle of last week that calls forth an exultation in flying 
banners and the clash of steel on steel . . . here, we 
might almost cry, was a conflict in which to lose one's life 
gloriously ... No one who isn't a senior can know the 
empty feeling one has when elections for next year be- 
gin . . . Do we imagine it, or are campus fashions becom- 
ing more and more colorful? . . . With spring so late 
this year, it is hard to remember the long and beautiful 
fall of 1939. 

Almost everyone who has had so much as one ten- 
minute written in college has an opinion on the perfect 
university. No matter how nebulous the idea may be, 
it is there. 

Perhaps the complaint on the current curriculum goes 
no further than the perpetual freshman gripe, "Every 
teacher thinks his course is the only one we take," or the 
meanings of every member of the junior class who is 
ti-ying to fit all the required-for-a-major subjects into the 
senior schedule. The plan for an education might only 
be the i:esult of a sophomoric panic over the first oral hour- 
report or the accumulated cynicism of four years' hard 
woi'k with no tangible reward at the end of them. 

At any rate, every college student who has gone to 
classes from October to Apiil has, explicitly or implicitly, 
made some criticism or suggestion relative to the existing 
system of higher education. Some of us go so far as to 
dream up the ideal college curriculum. Here is one of 
them, the product of nearly four years' observation of 
students, teachers, and the effect of their inter-action. 

The education business is made much too hard. It 
can be simple — as simple as this: all that any woman 
really needs to know in this age, besides, if necessai-y, a 
way to earn her own living, all she should be thoroughly 
versed in are the three fundamental skills — reading, 
writing, and speaking. 

Most of us feel we have learned to read, to write and 
to talk long before we entered seventh grade. Most of 
us graduate from college without being able to do any 
of them very competently. 

In my dream college, the entire curriculum would be 
directed toward the training of young people who could 
use many words and shape them into any form and in 
any medium express the ideas which they have received 
from the woi'ds in the books they have read, the lectures 
they have heard. They would be able to speak without 
stumbling upon any subject on which they have ideas. 
In my college, professors and other students would never 
be forced to witness the painful sight of an inarticulate 
person staggering through a temi-report or a seminar dis- 
cussion or even an announcement in chapel. 

The students of tomorrow, if I have my way, will be 
able to express their ideas in writing, forcefully and 
clearly. Few persons can be taught to create works of 
literature. Anyone can learn to put things down on paper 
in reasonably adult paragraphs, relatively simple sen- 
tences and perfectly correct grammar and spelling. If she 
can not learn it in freshman composition, she will have 
to learn it in other required courses. 

Finally, my college student will be able to i^ead. I 
do not refer by that to the mechanics of reading, although 
educational psychologists have been having a field-day in 
the last few years proving by tests how stupid we colle- 
gians are as readers. Laying mechanics aside — do we 
really read well? Do we penetrate quickly to the heart of 
an article? Do we know the associations called up by 
the words? Do we see the color of them, hear the beauty 
of their sound? No? Well, my college student, with a 
rich background knowledge, will. She will be a truly 
good reader, as well as a competent writer and a poised 

April 17, 1940 

Motlern Dance Group 
Joins Glee Club 
In Annual Recital 

Again this year the Glee Club is 
busy making final plans for its an- 
nual concert here at school. The 
date has been set for Wednesday 
evening, May 1. In connection with 
the Glee Club concert, the modern 
dance groups, under the direction of 
Miss Helen Errett, will present a pro- 
gram of original dances. 

Following the concert there will 
be a dance in the chapel. Jean 
Curry, president of Glee Club, is 
serving as committee chairman for 
the dance. Students who have paid 
their activities fee will receive a free 
ticket. Tickets include admission to 
the dance as well as the concert. 

The Glee Club will sing the fol- 
lowing numbers: 
Come Again Sweet Love 

John Dowand 

Green Sleeves Old English 

Three Early English Catches: 

1. Runcell 

2. Needham 

3. Dr. Nares 

Two Brahm's Gypsy Songs 

Number 3 and 6 

Standchen Schubert 

Solo by Jane Hanauer 

Sound Sleep Vaughn Williams 

This program will be divided into 
two gi'oups, and between each group 
the modern dance classes will pre- 
sent their recital. 
Dances are: 

First Group 
"The Killers" by Carl Sandburg. . . 

Renee Schreyer 

Dancer — Renee Schreyer 
"Lament" by Edna St. Vincent 

MiUay Alice Chattaway 

Dancers — Alice Chattaway 
Ruth Bauer 
Peggy Matheny 
"Union Now" or Union Never? . . 


Dancers— Freshmen Group 

Drought Betty Eastwood 

Dancers — Betty Eastwood 
Ruth Bauer 
Renee Schreyer 
Second Group 
The Curriculum Rachel Kirk 

a. Logic 

b. Astronomy 

c. Composition 

d. Rhythm 

I Dancers — Rachel Kirk 

J Betty Elastwood 

Alice Chattaway 



Page Three 

Dr, H. L. Holbrook 
Heads Neiv Project 

Plans for the Adjustment Institute 
are going ahead rapidly. It has been 
decided that it will go into operation 
next fall, and the details are being 
worked out at the present time. 

Dr. Harold L. Holbrook has been 
appointed Director of the Institute. 
He is now at the college, beginning 
to straighten out the details involved 
in the organization of such an under- 
taking. Previously, Dr. Holbrook was 
State Director of Guidance for the 
National Youth Administration in 

As Professor of Education in Dr. 
Kinder's department, Dr. Holbrook 
will conduct a class in Mental Hy- 
giene next year. This course will 
probably be limited to seniors. 

The actual outline for the worls; to 
be done next year will include class 
material for seventh gi-ade pupils be- 
ing prepared by Dr. Holbrook under 
the title The Art of Understanding: 

The purpose of the Institute is to 
teach students while still in High 
School how to meet people and sit- 
uations, in order that they may be 
better able to face and solve the 
problems they will !:icet -iifer tliey 
leave school. Parental education, 
teacher training, and student guid- 
r.nce are all vital parts of its program. 

Upperelassinen Feted 

The Patio of the Schenley Hotel 
will be the setting for the sopho- 
more's tea for the seniors this after- 
noon from three to five. Betty Haz- 
eltine is chairman of the committee 
and has charge of the tea. 

The freshman will entertain the 
juniors at a tea on Friday, April 19, 
in Woodland Hall. Marian Kiefifer 
is chairman of the committee which 
is composed of Rosella Wayne, Peg 
Johnson, and Peggy Dietz. Tea will 
be served from three to five witli 
entertainment at four o'clock. 

Syncopated Swing .... Ruth Bauer 
Peggy Matheny 
Dancers — Ruth Bauer 

Peggy Matheny 
Theme and Variations on a French 

Nursery Song 

Aethelburga Schmidt 

Josef Wagner 
Sophomore Group 
Dancers — Aethelburga Schmidt 
Sophomore Group 

New Arrow Editors 
Chosen by Board 

Jo Anne Healey and Jeanne-Anne 
Ayres, both '41, will head next year's 
Arrow staflf. The co-editors were ap- 
pointed by the Board of Publications 
at a meeting, Wednesday, April 10. 

Jo Anne Healey has worked on 
the Arrow for two years, serving as 
feature editor this year. She also is 
one of the writers of Hear and Their 
and a frequent contributor to the 
literary section of the magazine. A 
member of the French and Dramatic 
clubs and Omega, she also takes an 
active part in dramatics. 

Jeanne- Anne Ayres has been a staff 
writer on the Arrow since she enter- 
ed PCW and was the winner of the 
Omega Short Story Contest last year. 
She belongs to Lambda Pi Mu, 
Omega and the Dramatic Club. Both 
girls are on the Dean's List. 

The Board of Publications is com- 
posed of Miss Marks, Miss Mowry, 
Mrs. Shupp, and tlie president and 
vice-presidents of tlie Student Gov- 
ernment Board, the editors of the 
Arrow, and the editor and business 
manager of the Pennsylvanian. 

PCW Will Entertain 
High School Students 

The spring reception for high 
school students will be held on cam- 
pus, April 27. 

The day will begin with scholar- 
ship examinations at nine o'clock. 
These examinations are given to 
those girls wlio want scholarships 
and will enter PCW in the fall of 
1940. The scholarships range from 
$50 to $150 for day students and 
from $50 to $300 for resident stu- 
dents. There will be one hundred 
girls taking the examinations. 

Students taking the examinations 
are invited to stay at the school for 
lunch and remain for the reception 
for high school seniors in the aft- 
ernoon. There will be tours of the 
campus so that the girls may see 
the buildings, the class rooms and 
the dormitory. PCW girls will be 
hostesses for the afternoon and will 
show the guests the college. 

After the program tea will be serv- 
ed in Woodland Hall. Miss Camp- 
bell and Miss Marks will receive, the 
students will serve. 

Miss Marks and Dr. Spencer will 
welcome the girls in the program 
which is to be held in the chapel 
following lunch. 

Page Four 


April 17, 1940 

Citizens Chosen 
For Fernopia 

The cast for "No Male Today," the 
original senior play to be given May 
16, was announced recently. 

The three principal roles, those of 
the Dictator, Cobina, and Clementine, 
will be played by Mary Ellen Oster- 
gard, Jane Hanauer, and Rachel Kirk. 

The Dictator's Cabinet will be com- 
posed of the Ministers of Education, 
Relief, Foreign Affairs. Propaganda, 
Substitutes, Clubs, and Army, played 
by Jean Geiselhart, Marianne Mc- 
Callister, Patricia Krause, Beryl 
Bahr, Jane Viehman, Jean Watson, 
and Helen Lohr. 

Violet Cook, Audrey Horton. Ruth 
File, and Peggy Christy will take the 
parts of the Treasurer, the Stranger, 
Phillipina, and Portia. 

Katherine Rutter, Janet Ross, Jean 
Burry, and Pat Brennan will be Mc- 
Gurk, the Mail Carrier, Betty, and 
Peggy. The College Girls will be 
played by Ruth Mary \rthur, Jean 
Cate. Anne Ludlow, Sally Br.jvvne, 
and Ruth Bauer. Helen Cheng will 
be the salesman. 

A group from the Modei'n Dancing 
class will give a pantomime. II will 
be given by Louise Lean. Frances 
iiahafley, Betty Eastwood, Peg Dun- 
resth, and Renee Schreyer. 

"No Male Today" was written Ijy 
'aache' Kirk, Audrey Horton, ani 
Nancyann Cockerille. The music for 
the ten songs in the play were v/ritten 
by Ann Miller and Jean Watson. 

The proceeds from the play will be 
given to the Library Fund. 

Omega Rules Changed 

Omega, the English majors' club 
of PCW, at its meeting Wednesday, 
April 3, changed its entrance require- 
ments. Formerly only English ma- 
jors could become members, but 
starting next year any English major 
oi minor or anyone interested may 
become a member. The only require- 
ment will be the submission of a 
piece of original writing as poetry, 
short story, or an article. 

Freshmen will be able to become 
members in the second semester. 

Annually Omega sponsors a short 
story contest. This year's contest 
is now open and will continue until 
May 1. Any member of the student 
body may enter. A group of judges 
will decide upon the winner. The 
first prize is to be ten dollars and the 
second prize has not been decided. 

Instrumental Ensemble 
Will Present Recital 
For Student Body 

The PCW instrumental ensemble 
will present a chapel program on 
Wednesday, May 15. The ensemble 
consists of eleven players who will 
perform as a group and who will play 
numbers written for quartet and trio. 

These smaller groups have per- 
formed at several affair; during the 
year. The aim of this type of work 
is to provide opportunity for the en- 
semble to play some of the beautiful 
chamber music written by classic and 
modern composers for unusual com- 
binations of instruments. 

The members of the group who will 
play are as follows: 
Fay Cumbler 

Laura Mulkearn Violin 

Mary Linn Marks 
Ruth Patton 

Ruth Mary Arthur Flutes 

Mile; Janouch Viola 

Sally Thomas Cello 

Ann Baker Bass Viol 

Amy McKay Clarinet 

Betty Gahagen Oboe 

Mary E. Rope Piano 

Singers Give Recital 

The Hampton Institute singers from 
tire Hampton Institute in Virginia 
will give a program of folk songs and 
negro spirituals in chapel, May 1. 

The group has been in existence for 
many years and each year it makes a 
good-will tour of the United States. 
For the last four years the group has 
sung at PCW. 

Hampton Institute is a vocational, 
academic, as well as an agricultural 
school for negroes. 

Student Work Featured 
In Chapel Program 

A program of original composi- 
tions will be presented on Wednes- 
day, May 8 in chapel. This gives 
the student body an opportunity to 
hear the music which has been writ- 
ten as part of the regular class work 
in music theory. 

Included in this program will be 
solos for piano and organ as well 
as composition for two pianos. Vocal 
numbers are both secular and sacred, 
ranging from simple children's songs 
to the lieder and art song for solo 
voice. Some of the lyrics are orig- 
inal, others are taken from the great 
poets or from the Bible. 

PCW Represented 
At Conference 

On Saturday, April 20, there will 
be a sectional meeting at the Ca- 
thedral of Learning — University of 
Pittsburgh, with C. E. Manwil, Penn- 
sylvania Director of the Department 
of Curricular Study and Research of 
the Pittsburgh Public Sc'nools. The 
discussions will be held at the same 
time at Foster Memorial Hall. 

Dr. Kinder and Dr. Spencer will 
attend the third annual audio-visual 
education conference, Friday and 
Saturday, April 19 and 20. The 
conference will be held at Foster 
Memorial Hall, Pittsburgh. The 
theme of the conlerence is "The 
Evaluation and Use of Audio-Visual 
Materials in the Classroom." Dr. 
Kinder is chairman of the commit- 
tee and helping him are John A. 
Hallinger of the Pittsburgh Public 
Schools, Herbert T. Olander of the 
University of Pittsburgh, Charles E. 
Dickey, Superintendent of Allegheny 
County Public Schools, and J. E. 

The conference will begin at 2:00 
P. M., Friday April 19, with C. E. 
Dickey presiding. During the next 
hour and half there will be several 
talks given on "The Administration 
of an Audio-Visual Education Pro- 

After a short recess, the meeting 
will reconvene with Dr. Kinder pre- 
siding. There will be two outstand- 
ing guest speakers. Walter Ginsberg 
from the Teachers College, Columbia 
University will speak on "Scientific 
Aides to Teaching English" and Rob- 
ert Albright, administrative assistant 
to the Trustees, Teaching Film Cus- 
todians, Inc., New York. 

At 6:00 P. M. there will be an in- 
formal dinner at Webster Hall. At 
8:00 P. M. the conference will open 
its evening meeting at Foster Me- 
morial Hall. Films showing scenes 
in Pittsburgh will be followed by 
a panel discussion on "The Docu- 
mentary Film in Teaching Social 
Studies" led by E. A. Dimmick, as- 
sociate superintendent of the Pitts- 
burgh Public Schools. 

Miss Lovenson Speaks 

Miss Laura Lovenson, a potterer 
from New York, spoke on "Design 
From the Potters' View^point," in 
chapel last Monday, April 15. Miss 
Lovenson's talk was illustrated with 
slides and exhibits. 

April 17, 1940 


Page Five 

First Spring Elections Completed 

Campus Interest Turns 
To Three Elections 

Campus interest was directed last 
week to three important elections — 
Jean McGowan, '41 was elected House 
Pi'esident of Woodland Hall, Peggy 
Matheny, '42, junior member of the 
Student Government Board, and 
Charlotte Wolf, '41, was unanimous- 
ly elected president of A. A. 

For three years Jean McGowan at- 
tended the Emma Willard Prepara- 
tory school in Troy, New York. Slie 
was literai-y editor of the year book 
and on the varsity hockey and soccer 
teams. During her freshman year at 
PCW she was freshman editor of the 
Minor Bird and freshman represen- 
tative on the Student Government 
Board. During her sophomore year 
Jean was head of the freshman com- 
mission. She was a member of the 
Glee Club for two and a half years. 
She was chairman of the Freshman- 
Sophomore Spring formal last year. 
This year she is the business manager 
of the Pennsylvanian and was a mem- 
ber of Beta Chi which was formerly 
the math club. Jean is majoring in 

Peggy Matheny has participated in 
a number of activities while in PCW. 
She was president of the freshman 
class in 1938-39. This year she was 
chairman of the day student's Christ- 
mas dance. She is also a member of 
Dramatic Club. 

Charlotte Wolf has also taken part 
in many extra-curricular activities. 
In her freshman year she was a mem- 
ber of the library committee. As a 
sophomore she was on the den com- 
mittee. She is now treasurer of the 
junior class and junior member of the 
A.A. Board. Charlotte has partici- 
pated in volleyball hockey, and ten- 
nis. She is also a member of I.R.C. 

YW To Hold Banquet 
For New Officers 

plans are being made for Y. W.'s 
annual banquet to be held Monday 
evening. May 6. Y. W. officers and 
cabir et, faculty advisors, and mem- 
bers may attend the dinner. 

At a meeting after the banquet, 
the resigning officers will give brief 
repor s of their work for this year. 
Then the new officers and cabinet 
members will be installed with a 
formal installation ceremony. 

Unanimous SGA Vote 
Makes Gladys Patton 
President Next Year 

Gladys K. Patton 

Gladys Patton was elected presi- 
dent of Student Government for 
1940-41 by an unanimous vote of 
the student body, Thursday, April 4. 

Before entering PCW, she at- 
tended Greensburg High School. 
While there she was editor of the 
yearbook and secretary of the Stu- 
dent Council, in addition to partic- 
ipating in many sports. 

Glady, a junior, is well-known on 
campus, and has taken part in me^ny 
extra-curricular activities. In her 
freshman year she was a member 
of the freshman commission and a 
member of the House Board of 
Woodland Hall. 

In her sophomore year, she held 
the position of representative on the 
Student Government Board, and this 
year was junior advisor to the fresh- 
man class. 

These, however, are not all of 
Glady's activities, for she is a mem- 
ber of I. R. C. and Lambda Pi Mu, 
and participates actively in college 
sports. She was the captain of the 
junior class baslvetball team. She 
was copy editor of the Arrow last 

YW^ Elects President 

The newly elected president of 
YW, Mary Linn Marks, has had a 
unique schooling, for before coming 
to PCW she attended Kiski, boy s 
prep school at Saltsburg, Pa. 

Being the only girl in the school, 
Mary Linn did not feel free to ac- 
cept any of the school offices. How- 
ever, since she has come, to PCW, slie 
has participated in many activities. 

In her freshman year, she was a 
member of the freshman commis- 
sion, and in her sophomore year was 
treasurer of Student Government 
Asociation. This year she is sec- 
retary of S. G. A. 

In addition to serxring on numerous 
committees, Mary Linn is a member 
of I. R. C, and has been on the 
dean's list for two years. 

Other Officers Chosen 

Elections of YWCA officers for the 
coming year were held at a meeting 
Tuesday morning, April 9. 

The results are; vice-president, 
Helen Shellkopf; secretary, Jean 
Archer; treasurer, Margaret Ander- 

Helen Shellkopf, sophomore, is a 
member of the Arrow feature writ- 
ing staff, was on the YWCA banquet 
committee last year, and is a mem- 
ber of Lambda Pi Mu. Slie attended 
Wilkinsburg High School where she 
was a member of the National Hon- 
or Society, president of the Drama 
Club, club editor of the yearbook, 
and was on the Girl Reserve cabinet. 

Jean Archer is president of the 
freshman class, belongs to Phi Pi, 
and is a member of the Glee Club. 
She was graduated Irom Avonworth 
High School where she was president 
of the Girl Reserves, a senior mem- 
be of the Student Council, president 
of the junior class, and a member of 
the Sports Club and the Glee Club. 

Margaret Anderson, sophomore, is 
treasurer of the Student Government 
Association, was a member of the 
Freshman Commission, and belongs 
to the French Club and Lambda Pi 
Mu. She attended Greensburg High 
School where she was vice-president 
of the Sophomore class, a member of 
the a capella choir, French and Latin 
Clubs, Sorores Club, and Tri-Y. 

Mary Ellen Ostergard, president of 
YWCA, presided at the meeting. 

Page Six 


April 17, 1940 

PCW Girls, W-J Boys 
To Dance Quadrille 

The quadrille, given annually at 
Washington and Jefferson College, 
Washington, Pennsylvania, will be 
presented at the George Washington 
Hotel on Friday night, April 26. 

Thirty-six girls from PCW and 
boys from W and J will participate. 
Mr. and Mrs. Louett of Dearborn, 
Michigan are training the group. 

Two sets of dancers will be attir- 
ed in colonial costumes. The re- 
mainder will wear evening clothes. 
It is hoped that in future years 
everyone will wear colonial cos- 

A special effort is being made to 
have Henry Ford attend the quad- 

The number of tickets is limited, 
but visitors may attend in formal 
dress. They are invited to the sup- 
per which will follow the presenta- 
tion of the quadrille. This makes 
the spectators a part of the group. 

YWCA Sends Delegates 
To Atlantic City Meet 

The national convention of the 
Y. W. C. A., which is held every two 
years, met this year at Atlantic 
City. The Convention lasted from 
April 10 to 16. 

The purpose of the meeting was 
to discuss the policies and princi- 
ples of the Y. W. C. A. During this 
convention, this year they also cel- 
ebrated the 85tli anniversary of 
the founding of the Y. W. C. A. 

Those who represented PCW at the 
conference included Mrs, H. L. 
Spencer, Ruth Clark, Jane Vieh- 
man, and Brice Black. 

Scholarship Benefit 
To Increase Fund 

The Dilworth Hall Association will 
hold a benefit in the Chapel, Tues- 
day evening. May 7. The Dilworth 
Hall Association is composed of grad- 
uates and former students of Dil- 
■worth Hall Preparatory School — a 
preparatory school for PCW that was 
discontinued in 1916. 

This is one of many benefits the as- 
sociation has held to raise the $10,- 
000 scholarship fund, in honor of 
Janet L. Brownlee, principal of the 
preparatory school for many years 
and after its closing, assistant to Miss 

PCW Athletes To Play 
In Sports Tournament 
At Penn State College 

A group of girls from PCW will 
attend a state athletic meet which 
will be held at Penn State the week- 
end of April 27-28. 

Various tournaments will be held 
in swimming, archery, tennis, and 

The girls representing PCW are 
Ruth Mary Arthur, Anne Ludlow, 
and Peg Dunseath, all '40, for bad- 
minton. Sue Wooldridge, '41, for 
archery, Gladys Patton, '41, and 
Nancy Over, '40, for tennis, and 
Julia Wells, '41, and Jean Arthur, 
'42, for swimming. 

A program has been arranged 
which includes, in addition to the 
tournaments, a banquet, and an all- 
college circus. 

Book Shelf 

Science Professors 
Attend Conference 
In Cincinnati 

The natural science department of 
PCW has been busy lately. Dr. Wal- 
lace and Dr. Scholl spent April 8 to 
10 in Cincinnati, Ohio, at the semi- 
annual American Chemical Society's 
Conference. Dr. Wallace was chair- 
man of the Pittsburgh section of the 
society this year. 

The physics and chemistry teach- 
er's club of Pittsburgh has chosen 
PCW for the location of its May 
meeting. After the meeting, the 
members and their wives will have 
dinner in Woodland Hall Dormitory. 

Woodland Hall to Hold 
Annual Spring Dance . . 
This Saturday ISight 

The annual Woodland Hall spring 
dance will be held April 20, it has 
been announced by Betty Crawford, 
president of the House. 

The dance will be from 9:00 to 
12:00 P. M. when refreshments will 
be served. 

Tiie committee in charge of the 
dance is Pat Brennan, chairman; Bet- 
ty Ann Morrow, Julia Wells, Ruth 
Strickland, Virginia McCune, Mar- 
garet Graham, Lucille Cummins, and 
Coleen Lauer. 

The committee has not yet chosen 
the orchestra. This year each dorm 
girl may ask one guest. The tickets 
vviU be one dollar for each couple. 

Spring is here, and the good house- 
keeper cleans house and takes in- 
ventory of the stock on hand. The 
good librarian does likewise, and from 
our library comes a report of new 
spring books. They have been flow- 
ing in from all fields and walks of 
literature. Among those present is 
How to Read a Book by Mortimer J. 
Adler, which deals with the art of 
getting a liberal education and is 
really a book about how to read a 
book. Also there is a book which 
describes the technique of applying 
logic instead of emotion to thought. 
It is How To Think Straight by Rob- 
ert Thouless. 

Among the important plays is The 
Male Animal by James Thurber and 
Elliott Nugent, which is now playing 
full houses in New York city. The 
critics describe it as placing one in 
a dizzying, amazingly funny world. 
Other plays include The Man Who 
Came to Dinner by George S. Kauf- 
man and Moss Hart, Key Largo by 
Maxwell Anderson and The Time of 
Your Life by William Saroyan. 

The novel which rates Bookseller's 
Discovery of the year is now in our 
possession. It is Ararat by Elgin 
Grosulose, which is a timely book. 
People are going to argue about it, 
puzzle over it, attack and defend it. 
So read it, now, and prepare to take 
your stand. 

Other current novels are Kitty 
Foyle by Christopher Morley, de- 
scribing the natural history of a 
woman. The Nazarene by Sholem 
Asch, Asleep in the Afternoon by E. 
C. Large and Portrait of Jennie by 
Robert Nathan. 

Nineteen hundred and thirtj'-nine 
recorded our present civilization in 
a Time Capsule. Since Yesterday by 
Frederick Lewis Allen seems to fol- 
low suit as it is our reference book of 
the 1930's. It deals with every min- 
ute detail from women's hats and 
Charlie McCarthy to "Who's Afraid 
of the Big Bad Wolf" and the swerve 
from classical economy. 

Club Holds Meeting 

The Colloquium Club, a literary 
society to which many PCW faculty 
members belong, will hold a meet- 
ing Monday, April 22, in the science 
lecture hall. Each year the club 
gives four $100 scholarships to PCW 

April 17, 1940 


Page Seven 


By Healey and Higgins 


By Betty Eastwood 

Summertime . . . the top goes down, and the air is 
full of bugs. Tennis, swimming, golf and horse, and 
freckles on our mugs ... A day, a week, a month per- 
haps, before the spring is o'er . . . But meanwhile we 
still keep red flannels handy in the bureau drawer! 
L'amour, I'amour, I wish I wuz a bugl 

Meanwhile, W. & J. still invades the campus, or vice- 
versa, with Mary Evelyn Ducey, Ella Hilbish. Margaret 
Bebertz (hmmm! We would say the play's the thing!) 
Lucy Cummins, Jane Fitzpatrick, Eileen Wechsler, Jean 
Sweet, and Marion Lambie among those present at the 
cotillion last week-end. Soon comes the prom, gals . . . 
make some news. 

Spring vacation came and went and that was that. In 
memoriam, Janie Hanauer displays a piece of West Point 
jewelry on THE digit, and Audrey Horton and Betty East- 
wood are diamonding on same. We would say congratu- 
lations, but E. Post wrote us personally and said you 
never, but NEVER congratulate the female of an in- 
tended alliance. You merely wish them happiness, or 
lucli. as the case may be. So, as the case may be gals, 

Dottie Brooks, Louise Haldeman and Margai'et An- 
derson ('43) strolled out of modern dancing class the 
other day in those charming, but brief costumes, and the 
Pitt boys parked near-by are still cheering. 

Ruth Wright roamed in and asked us to say some- 
thing nice about Joey. We do, and also add a word of 
approval for Joey's Tech Beta friend, Jim, who is dating 
right and left all over the place, but never the same 
femme. Many a heart has been broken, etc. 

Distance dwindles as Alice Chattaway talks to Massa- 
chusetts, and Ruth Fite converses with New York. Per- 
sonally, we're still waiting for television. 

Nancy Over is going in for jitterbugging, and Betty 
Bacon, Sis Weller seem to go for Steel Roberts. Jean 
McGowan goes for walks with Butch, Amy McKay goes 
looking for birds at 3 in the morning. Jane Brooks goes 
dancing in Charleston, the Arrow goes to bed in ten 
minutes and that goes for us too. But first, some musings 
on men. 

"Wlio is the mystery male in Barbara Heinz's life? Has 
Ginnie McCune's mail increased? Why has Dottie Carey 
given up men for music? Will Pat Kent get her barris- 
ter? Did Betty Anne Baker get her photo? How many 
Delts does Eileen Chapman love? Will we get invited to 
the prom? What prom? Read these and other exciting 
episodes in next month's Arrow . . . 3rd column from 
the left, under the racing I'etums. 

And before we leave, may we pass on to you a story 
with a moral, about the Marines. It seems that Mary 
Louise Henry broke a man's heart about a year ago, and 
so he joined the marines. Comes now a wire from the 
Gov't telling him to be ready to embark for parts foreign 
on 30 days' notice, and the only way he can get de- 
marined is by getting married! 


We always had a fondness in our heart for news- 
papers. Probably we were too idealistic all the time. 
But, we figured some of the stories they printed could be 
believed, and went blissfully on our way swallowing the 
articles in one gulp. After all the poor editor was trying 

Now that it is war-time we are bewildered. The 
headlines are very beautiful and black, and the stories 
neatly labeled: Stockholm, London, and Berlin. Two 
British ships sunk, says the Berlin report. Two Nazi 
ships sunk, says the London story. Two ships sunk, says 
the account from Stockholm. Obviously we can't bejieve 
them all. Either they are all correct, in which case six 
boats went down; or they are all wrong and no ships sank 
at all. If we take a middle course we have an increas- 
ingly strong conviction that no one knows any more than 
we do, and if they did they wouldn't tell. 

It was a noble faith we had, but it, like many other 
nobilities of spirit, is gone with the war. We spent our 
precious allowance, got forty pages of paper, and all we 
learned was that someone sank something . . . probably 

One Restful Note 

Then there is the "Bed Problem." Yes, that's what we 
said! The manufacturers of beds have been making them 
all the same size since the days when you climbed into 
them with little stairs. It was fine until vitamins came 
along. People ate the vitamins and grew strong. They 
also grew long-legged, and some of them had to build 
extensions on their beds, complete with hot water bottles, 
to keep their feet warm. "This," said the manufacturers, 
"will never do." So the beds will take vitamins too, 
and henceforth emerge from the factory bigger than the 
people, we hope. 

Another Spring? 

Spring has come. The newspapers bear witness to 
the fact. There are war headlines galore, and in a cor- 
ner of the front page, a note to the effect that the Wash- 
ington Cherry Blossoms are opened. Spring came slow- 
ly this year, hesitant, fearful; as if nature herself knew 
what was being whispered, as if she had heard the soft- 
spoken prophesies that it would spell renewed vigor in 
the European war. But the seasons must change, and 
with April the war has burst forth. With April also the 
cherry blossoms bloom. In the capitals of Europe the 
flowers pay a funeral tribute to the dead and those who 
soon will die. In America they bloom for peace, and 
warm, fragrant nights, and music across the parks. We 
will look at them with new appreciation this year, be- 
cause there lurks a question in their beauty. We will 
laugh in the spring evening's hush, and be silent in its 
peace, yet our eyes are sad. Flowers, for joy or mourn- 
ing. Which will it be when spring comes again next 
year? Which will it be in America, tears or sorrow? 

PF^e Fight 


April 17, 1940 


By Althea Lowe 

Are you havin' any I'un? There's certainly no excuse 
if you're not with all of the new billings and entertain- 
ment almost begging you to enter. And now that spring 
is definitely here (we hope, we hope, we hope) and that 
dreaded disease spring fever has been almost universally 
contracted, you had best get rid of the red flannels and 
join the fun-makers. 

The current New York succes;, "Margin for Error," 
will open Monday, April 22, at the Nixon. The author is 
Claire Booth who also wrote "The Women" and "Kiss 
the Boys Goodbye," which you should have seen in De- 
cember. "Margin for Error" is a cleverly plotted melo- 
drama with enough of mystery and satire to appeal to 
everyone. It will be followed by George M. Cohan's 
"Return of the Vagabond" on May 6. Keep the dates in 

If you're looking for excitement and laughter and 
some real drama on the screen, be sure to see Mickey 
Rooney in "Young Tom Edison" at Loew's Penn. Mickey, 
as usual, portrays himself to perfection and not as yet, 
has the novelty worn thin. 

Horace Heidt and his Musical Knights are now at the 
Stanley in person. You all know how pleasant those 
strains of music can be after a strenuous hour written, 
so take advantage of it while he's here. But if you think 
you "hit" the exam, and hence you're in a dancing mood, 
George King, the new maestro at Bill Green's will be 
glad to see you, or you might stop at the New Penn where 
Johnny Wiles and his orchestra have begun a month's 

And on a more classic note, Nelson Eddy and Lily 
Pons are both coming to Syria Mosque in the very near 
future! They're both on the May Beegle series so if j'ou 
haven't already bought a ticket, don't wait for the last 
minute. They're popular stars, you know. 

And one of the highest points of entertainment for 
the month is the annual spring house dance. Each dor- 
mitory student will be permitted to bring one guest so 
no doubt a large number of day students will be Aere. 
Remember, Saturday night, April 20, already taken, so 
don't make other plans. 

If you are longing for deep spring — for crocuses and 
apple blossoms and tulips all in bloom, it isn't necessary 
to "wait till the real thing comes along." For the 19 '0 
Flower Show at Phipps Conservatory welcomes you to a 
"preview of spring." 

We went between the hours of 9 A. M. and 5 P. !\I. 
(when the admission is free) and we began our iourney 
beside a lily pond in the main hall that houses the first 
display in the exhibition. 

The loveliest exhibit, to u = . -"vas t'le Charleston Gar- 
den. It is a tvpical "arden of the deeo south with azea- 
lea=! and rhododendrons spt '■■' pm^ne tr^^^s "^'ms with 
Spanish Moss. As we entered. mu=ic r'^anged from a 
march to a minuet, and we closed our eyes, and smelled 

Things We Should Have Done Before 

Hip-hip-hocray! That's one good rousing cheer for 
the basketball managers. As examples of efficiency spirit, 
and dependability they are tops, so orchids to Mary Lou 
Fenry, Janet Ross, Sr., Margie Longwell, and Mildred 
Weather Report 

Fair and warmer. Unsurpassed for tennis, golf, rid- 
ing, mushball, and suntan. The courts v.ill be ready any 
day now; golf lessons start this week; the horses are at 
the post; sign up for color teams in mushball now. 
Election Bulletin 

Carrie Wolf v.'as unanimously elected President of 
A. A. for next year. An outstanding athlete in her 
class, this year Charrie was on both the Honorary Hockey 
and Basketball teams. Congratulations. 
Tourney News 

The spring badminton and pingpong tournaments are 
now in full swing. As you know, the winner of each of 
f'ese tournaments is av.-arded a cup. Come out and 
watch some of these matches then you, too, will know 
who our stars are. You do Ivnow they're not all in 
astronomy class. 
Opportunity Knockings 

Bowling is fast becoming a favorite sport with the 
PCWites. In case you haven't already heard, you can 
try your skill at knocking the pins and the pin-boy over 
any Wednesday after 2:30 at the Murray-Beacon alleys. 
And you get two lines for a quarter. Logic for today. 
A line lasts much longer if you are playing with a group, 
so let's get the gang and go bov.-ling. It's wonderful for 
the ngure. 
Food Bulletin 

Fverv year the Athletic Association sponsors a dinner 
f'^r t^e class term that was victorious in hockey and the 
l-asketball chemnionship. This year the Sophomore and 
Senior teams will be thusly honored. Look for a notice 
about the date. 
Pattings On the Back 

I told you so. Yanh-ala the little fox. The Senior 
team did come out on top in the basketball season, and 
the Freshman team was a dark horse, emerging second. 
Now will you believe me? 

mpsnolias in the moonlight. When we opened our eyes 
again, the music had changed and we were in the orchid 
room, looking reverently at one of the nation's finest col- 
lections of rare blooms. There were v/hite ones that 
seemed to be made of tissue paper; lavender, rose, peach 
F."d brown ones, growing on a moss covered hill. 

If you have not yet seen the Spring Flower Show, we 
,,]-(j-o you to go at once, and we agree with the Conserva- 
torv program when it says that "Pittsburgh leads the 
V'crld in its free public flower shows." 


April 17, 1940 


Page Nine 

SHADOW Cr THE LARCH ...byJ.AnnaAyr«.-41 

The air was cold. It was so cold 
that when his feet hit the sidewalk 
it almost seemed possible that they 
could brealv off brittly without his 
even knowing it. It was so cold 
that the wind swept through the 
tweed of his coat as if it were only 
loose netting. But, even as he shiv- 
ered, he did not feel the cold. The 
sidewalk was hard, jarring at every 
step, but he did not feel the hard- 
ness. The afternoon was late and 
the light that had been muffled all 
day was metal gray now, a gray as 
cold and hard as steel. But all that 
he saw was dusk approaching and 
all that he knew was his home only 
six blocks away. Six short blocks 
lay between him and the world he 
belonged in, the world where urhat 
he had just done would seem mag- 
nificent, where his mother would 
look at him with happy pride, where 
the shadow of his father remained, 
as ever-present and as dominating as 
the great Larch tree by the house. 
It would not be cold there with the 
fire and the tea his mother always 
had ready for him. 

He felt at last that everytlring was 
settled and right with the world. He 
was freed from the sleepless uncer- 
tainty that had been torturing him 
for the past twenty-four hours. He 
had decided on the course he must 
take and he had taken it; there was 
no turning back or changing things. 
That was why he felt happy and re- 
lieved now, that was why he didn't 
notice the cold or the hardness of the 
sidewalk or the snow that was about 
to fall from the grey sky. What the 
consequences of his decision might 
be, he had a fair idea, but they did 
not really bother him because the 
responsibility was no longer in his 
hands. The one important thing was 
that he had lived up to the principles 
his mother had given him, the prin- 
ciples his father had held dearer than 
life or happiness. 

Armas stepped down from the curb 
and crossed the deserted street. It 
was getting darker, in that empty 
hour between daylight and street- 
light, when women are home prepar- 
ing supper and men are not yet 
through work. He felt as if he were 
the only person on the street, in the 
city, in the world. He was complete 
unto himself tonight — or would be 
complete when he had joined his 
mother and the home with the tall 
Larch tree beside it. So the loneli- 
ness did not bother him. 

Suddenly he stopped to listen. 
From down the street there was com- 
ing a new sound like many feet 
marching together. Even as he stood 
there listening in hypnotic wonder, 
the sound drew nearer, dissolving 
into a rhythm that seemed to rock 
the very ground he was standing on, 
growing louder, beating upon his ear- 
drums. He knew now, without look- 
ing, what it was. And he felt a 
strange desire to hurry on, to escape 
from the marching men that were 
bearing down upon him. But he 
knew that there was no reason to run, 
and so he waited for the pure, grim 
satisfaction of making himself wait 
when he hated it so. 

Out of the dark mass one by one 
the men emerged, took form, and be- 
came individuals. Yet they were not 
quite individuals because they all 
looked toward the same point, they 
all carried their heads with the same 
grim determination, they all pushed 
their feet in the same way. In spite 
of himself he felt a little thrill of 
pride in these countrymen of his. 
And immediately he was ashamed of 
that thrill. 

The soldiers were almost abreast 
of him now and he fell back into the 
shadow of a building, feeling that his 
civilian clothes were conspicuous. 
Although there was no drum, the beat 
of their feet was as steady and as 
unending and as relentless as the 
beat of a heart. He watched their 
feet. There were big shoes, little 
shoes, shoes with rundown heels, 
shoes that minced painfully, shoes 
that scuffed — but all army slioes. 
For no reason at all, Armas looked 
down at his own feet, but they were 
like none of the others. It seemed 
almost unreal to him now that only 
a few hours ago he had nearly been 
one of them. He had held the com- 
mand to enlist in his hands, he had 
walked into the recruiting office, tri- 
umphantly ignoring the waiting line 
of men, and he had laid the letter 
he'd written on their desk. Then he 
had gone out again without speaking 
a word or giving them a chance to 
speak, leaving the office in a glow of 
triumph like the triumph he had felt 
in his one and only fight the first year 
of school. The difference was that 
this time he could be proud of what 
he had done. 

But to make sure of his victory he 
had expressed his refusal in such 
final and impudent terms that he 
could never hope for clemency even 

if he should be coward enough to 
change his mind. That, of course, is 
what he had been most afraid of all 
along — that he might change his mind 
in one of those incredible moments 
when the desire to fight welled up in 
him almost beyond his control. He 
had never told his mother anything 
about this snameiul reeling. Never 
so long as he lived would he forget 
tlie expression on her delicate face 
when he had nan up on the porch 
that warm afternoon and told her 
about knocking down the bully in 
school. He had thought it was per- 
fectly right to defend himself and 
protect the little boys, but she had 
been frightened and horrified by it. 

It had been then that she'd told 
Irim about his father, the father he 
had never known. As she talked, he 
had stood leaning against the porch 
rail, looking out at the old Larcli 
tree, tall and heavy with its summer 
foliage. Each word she'd spoken was 
printed indelibly on his mind in con- 
nection with part of the tree — the 
scaly bark, the drooping branches, 
the tight, oblong cones that had al- 
ways pricked him, the hard bareness 
of its twigs concealed under soft 
needles. It was such a great tree, he 
had always been a little afraid of it; 
and now more than ever, as he'd 
stood listening to his mother, the 
awe and reverence he began to feel 
for his father was transferred to the 
Larch. And ever afterwards he had 
felt, strangely, that the tree actually 
represented that father and was the 
living symbol of all his philosophy. 

Armas had grown up idealizing him 
and believing without question in the 
principles his mother had taught him. 
It wasn't so much that he understood 
them completely; it was that they had 
been his father's. If he ever dared to 
doubt them he realized it was only 
because he had not yet learned to 
control his wrong impulses and was 
too young to understand completely 
the wisdom of his father. But now, 
this afternoon, he had for the first 
time acted upon those principles and 
as a result he felt them far easier to 
believe in than they had ever been 

The soldiers still were marching 
past him, endlessly, steadily, almost 
unnerving in their regularity. He 
still was watching their shoes and 
noticing how half of them stepped 
into the middle of an icy mud hole at 
the corner. Ai-mas wondered in a 
far off way what he would have done 

Page Ten 


April 17, 1940 

if he had been one of them. 

Suddenly he realized that two men 
were standing beside him. For a 
moment he could only stare at their 
army shoes, fascinated, and in a sort 
of vague surprise. 

"Armas! Hello!" 

Quickly he came to his senses and 
looked up at the grinning faces. 

"Erik! And Kaarlo!" He grasped 
their hands eagerly. This was the 
first time he'd seen them since grad- 

"Armas, you old fellow, you were 
day-dreaming!" That was Erik, 
whom everybody liked, but who al- 
ways spoke before he thought. The 
older one, Kaarlo, was tall and quiet. 

"It's pretty good to see you fel- 
lows again," Armas said, looking from 
one to the other. "But I don't un- 
derstand the uniforms." 

"Why, can't you see, we've joined 

"Joined the army? I — surely you're 

"We're pretty serious, I guess, about 
this, Armas." 

"But, Kaarlo, you especially! Why, 
you used to be a pacifist!" 

"They even need pacifists' help in 
this kind of war." 

"But," there was a touch of scorn 
in Armas' voice. "Surely you could 
be consistent enough to . . . " 

"We are consistent! We just had 
to decide whether we'd defend our 
country and home — or let it be de- 

Armas was thinking proudly of how 
he also had had to decide, and how 
he had conquered. But then, of 
course, these men knew nothing about 
his father or the ideas his father had 
stood for. 

"It isn't," Kaarlo was continuing 
mildly, "It isn't as though we'd done 
the attacking. They just came in 
and decided to take over our land 
and we've got to defend it." 

Armas was silent. It had been, 
after all, that very argument wliich 
had bothered him so much for the 
last twenty-four hours. 

"When are you joining, Arma.^;?" 
Erik asked maliciously. 

"I? Join! Surely you don't sup- 
pose I would give up my convictions, 
do you!" It was almost incredible 
that they should even dare think he 
would f;,eht. 

"All loyal men should," Erik re- 
plied hotly. 

"It depends on what you call loy- 
alty: In my mind I should rather 
be loyal to my father and my father's 
principles than to my country." 

"Your father!" Erik scoffed. 
"Maybfe your father's ideas are wrong, 

maybe they'i'e a coward's ideas!" 

Armas stiffened as if he had been 
struck. It was the first time he had 
ever spoken to anyone about his 
father and to have a fellow like Erik 
dare insult him was more than he 
could endure. As easily as stepping 
forward, Armas could have knocked 
Erik down for it. But it was the 
very principles themselves that forced 
him to stand still and take the in- 
sults as he had always done, 

"You don't realize what you're talk- 
ing about," he said, ti-ying to make 
himself speak calmly. 

"I don't need to," Erik began. But 
Kaarlo spoke up quickly. 

"Tell us what your father's ideas 
were, Armas." 

Armas looked from one to the 
other, feeling perfectly confident that 
when he finished they would both be 
a little awed and very much im- 
pressed by the greatness of his father. 

However in the little silence be- 
foi'e he spoke, he again heard the 
marching of the feet and realized 
they were still passing, still relent- 
less, and still like a clock beating 
away the minutes, the hours, the days 
of time. Quickly he tried to speak to 
drown out the sound of the steps. 
But when it came to forming the 
words, he found himself helpless. He 
had known it all for so long that it 
seemed quite clear to him. But there 
just were no words to describe it to 
them and he found himself only ut- 
tering banal, ordinary things. 

"My father," he said, watching their 
faces, "was more than a pacifist be- 
cause pacifists like you, Kaarlo, are 
willing to fight sometimes, when you 
feel that you are defending your 
home. But he believed that force of 
any kind, in any form, at any time 
was wrong." 

"Surely he felt it was right to at 
least defend his home ..." 

"No! If it meant using force, he 
would never stand up to defend his 
home or his life or even — or even 
his wife." Annas stopped abruptly, 
startled at the harshness of what he 
had just said. He felt somehow that 
it didn't sound well when spoken 
aloud. He didn't like the expression 
on their faces and he hated himself 
for having spoken at all. What he 
knew was too personal and too pre- 
cious to expose to the outside world. 
He was glad he hadn't mentioned 
more of the things his mother had 
told him — of how the soldiers had 
come into their home in the last war 
and wrecked it completely, insulting 
her and his father because they only 
stood by and did nothing. Armas 
had often lain in bed at night won- 

dering if he would ever be able to 
do anything like that. But until now 
it had always seemed the right thing 
to do. Why then should Erik . and 
Kaarlo be looking at each other sig- 
nificantly and saying a great deal in 
silence? He began to feel that he 
was ridiculous and that he had been 
tricked. The marching had almost 
become unendurable to him. 

At last Kaarlo spoke. 

"Do you really believe in these — 
these ideas of your father's-" 

"Why should I not?" Armas said 

"But surely," Erik burst out. 
"Surely you wouldn't let your own 
mother be killed if you could do any- 
thing to protect her?" 

What could he say? The marching 
feet were still relentlessly beating 
past them and he felt surrounded. 
His philosophy was being twisted un- 
til it was cheapened and until he 
could hardly understand himself why 
he believed in it. He had felt so 
triumphant and sure of it an hour 
before, but now he was frightened by 
the seed of doubt they had planted 
in him. 

"Even then I would never fight or 
never join the arniy." 

Erik suddenly spoke up, in a voice 
stiff with scorn. 

"You will when you get your order 
to enlist! These days it's a lot worse 
not joining than joining. They're 
pretty rough on you." 

But Kaarlo undei'stood better. 

"Think it over, Armas," he said 

"Don't worry," Erik sneered. "He'll 
join all right! But come on, Kaarlo! 
We can't stand here all day: we've 
got to get into line there — our com- 
pany's going by!" 

Kaarlo quickly shook Armas' hand 
and in another moment they had 
melted into the marching feet. They 
were no longer individuals to Armas; 
their eyes were looking where the 
other eyes were looking, their faces 
bore the same exalted deteiTnination 
as the other faces. They knew where 
they were going, they knew what they 
would be doing, and they were satis- 
fied that it was right. For a mo- 
ment Armas forgot himself and 
wished with his whole being that he 
was one of them, wished that he too 
were going out to defend his home. 

But at last the end of the line 
passed by him and he was left be- 
hind. He stood looking after the 
men as they disappeared into the 
growing darkness until at last they 
were completely out of sight and he 
was left alone on the sidewalk. For 
a moment the silence appalled him, 

April 17, 1940 


Page Eleven 

pressed against his eardrums, pressed 
in all around him. He could not 
have imagined that the street could 
be so silent and deserted. It was 
getting colder and now and then a 
flake of snow drifted down before 
him. He pulled his coat around him 
and shivered. He felt the cold now, 
completely. It cut through to his 
very bones and froze the roots of his 

Slowly, automatically, he started 
walking. The soles of his feet were 
sore when he stepped on them and 
he felt as if it were an interminable 
distance to his home. Blocks and 
blocks away was the world of his 
mother waiting for him. It almost 
seemed to him now that he would 
never get there again, never see it 
all again. But yet, out of the turmoil 
of his mind rose one thought — he 
must bridge the vast chasm that had 
opened up between his home and 
bim as he stood here in the street, in 
the world of reality. His father's 
ideas did not seem to belong here; 
that vas why it was so strangely, 
urgently important that he reach the 
reassuring security of home. He 
knew that there and there only could 
he find reality in them again. And 
he desperately needed that reality. 

It was almost completely dark 
when he reached the house. He 
looked up at the black outline he had 
known so long. There was the shape 
of the roof and, rising above it, stand- 
ing out from it, a thing separate and 
yet a thing blending in with it, stood 
the great Larcli tree. In the dark- 
ness it looked strangely lai'ger than 
he had ever seen it before. Its 
branches were hard and bare, stripped 
of their conceahng softness. Tall 
and bleak, it towered above evei-y- 
thing around it and seemed to be 
looking down at Armas in judge- 
ment. Trying to shake off a strange 
feeling of foreboding that was press- 
ing in upon him, he started to walk 
up the path. Here were all the 
things he knew so well, that he had 
grown up with — the gravel crunching 
under his feet, the high boxwood 
brushing his arms, the root sticking 
up on the edge of the path to trip 
him, the light on the front porch, the 
deep gash on the second step where 
Martti Mielch had upset his bicycle 
with him on it. Everything was as it 
had always been — but yet there was 
something different tonight. Tonight 
he could remember how his leg had 
been cut in the fall and the handle- 
bars had been twisted and Martti had 
laughed at him and he had been 
very angry because Martti had done 
it on purpose. But of course Martti 

had known he wouldn't fight about it 
and Martti had gone right on laugh- 
ing. Armas could remember all of 
this tonight — things he had almost 
forgotten — and he could still feel bit- 
ter about them. 

Now he was under the Larch tree 
and its long, clinging branches seemed 
to be swooping down toward him. 
He could look up into the dark in- 
terlacing of twigs, high out of sight, 
row upon row, reminding him oddly 
of the marching feet in their repeat- 
ing, repeating rhythm, ominous, end- 
less, coming out of nothing, going on 
into nothing. Suddenly he was 
frightened. He felt afraid of this 
strange tree he had always thought 
he'd known, this symbol of his father. 
He tried to move back, to escape from 
it; but no matter where he went, the 
branches still reached down after 
him, the black shadow still surround- 
ed him and pursued him. Even the 
bushes, the path, the house itself, 
seemed to be alien to him, under the 
same strange shadow of the Inarch. 
It was as if he had brought doubt to 
his home and the Larch had discov- 
ered it and had become hostile to- 
ward him. 

Shivering, and trying to shake off 
the spell, he forced himself to step 
up onto the porch. There was the 
little door he had loved with the 
brass knocker his mother always kept 
polished, and familiar door-handle 
he had turned all his life. He stared 
at the knob as if he had never seen 
it before. Why was he afraid to 
touch it? Why was he afraid to 
close that tiny distance between him 
and the door? He could see in the 
window the white curtains and the 
soft light within. His mother would 
have a fire going; she would have 
tea ready; she would be waiting anx- 
iously for him, sitting by the fire 
listening for his footsteps. He knew 
he was all she had in the world to 
live for and he knew how she lived 
completely, entirely in him. She 
would perhaps be worried by now 
if he were not there. Why then, when 
all of this was what he had so 
eagerly longed for and come home 
for, did he now hesitate? It was as 
if a touch on the brass knob would 
bring destruction on all that he had 
cherished. All of it hung in the 
balance, delicately poised on the 
brink of complete oblivion. He shiv- 
ered. Then, quickly gathering cour- 
age, he took one step forward and 
laid his fingers on the knob. 

Suddenly as if it had come to life 
at his touch, the door swung open 
and he saw the broad, well-dressed 
back of a man standing there. Start- 

led, Armas stepped backwards. His 
mother rarely had visitors and, al- 
though he could not see her because 
she was so small, he recognized her 
voice saying good-bye to the man. 
Armas moved a little to one side. 
And then, suddenly she saw him. 
The whole expression of her face 
changed. The color left it entirely 
and she stared as if she had never 
seen him before and as if she would 
never see him again. She made a 
feeble gesture toward closing the 
door upon him, or of pulling the man 
inside, but it was too late. He had 
apparently noticed the expression on 
her face and he turned around. 

"Hello! Is this the boy?" He had 
a large, good-natured face and a 
hearty voice. Armas had never seen 
him before. 

"Yes, came his mother's voice, 
barely audible. "This is his boy." 

"Well," the man said, holding out 
his hand with a smile. "I'm in luck, 
a minute more and I'd have missed 
you. My name's Svinhufvud, an old 
friend of your father's — rather imag- 
ine your mother's mentioned me." 

Armas took the hand with re- 
luctance. His mother had never men- 
tioned him. He looked at her ques- 
tioningly, but there was still the 
death-like pallor on her face and her 
eyes were as if she had disconnected 
them from her mind and they had 
ceased to register emotion. 

"You — you say you knew my 
father?" he asked, turning back to 
the man. 

"All his life. We were practically 
like brothers. We thought alike, we 
had the same ideas about everything." 

Armas looked at him with sudden 
hope. Maybe here he would find the 
answer to all of his questions and 
doubts. This man would know if 
anybody did. His reluctance turned 
to anticipation. Everything would 
be all right now. 

But everything was not quite all 
right. His mother was still standing 
in the doorway, blocking them out 
with her slight figure, staring at 
them both as if she were afraid to 
ask them to enter. This was not at 
all like her and it made Armas un- 

"It — it's cold, Mother, don't you 
think maybe you'd better not stand 
in the wind?" He stepped forward 
and she was forced to fall back from 
him, pressing against the door. He 
stared at her, not understanding 
what made her seem so strange. 
Svinhufvud went on in to the living 
room, but Ai-mas hung back and 

Page Twelve 


April 17, 1940 

turned to face her when he had 
closed the door. 

"Mother . . ." He touched her hand 
but it was as cold as the brass knob 
outside had been, and it hung limply 
in his grip. She opened her mouth 
to speak, but when she saw Svin- 
hufvud beyond in the parlor she 
quicl-cly pulled her hand away and 
left Armas standing by himself in the 
hall. He had the strange sensation 
that she didn't want him with them, 
that he was to remain in the hall. 
It was as though he were the stranger 
in his own home and his own home 
was strange to him — on this night of 
all nights when he most needed the 
peaceful, familiar security. 

Slowly, rather bewildered, he 
walked toward the parlor. At the 
doorway he stopped. Everything ap- 
peared to be as it had always been. 
The long lace curtains were white 
and hanging in perfect folds; the 
ivory woodwork was spotlessly 
smooth in the iirelight, the glass vase 
with the glass flowers was on the 
table with the yellow nasturtians to- 
ward the fire; beside the piano was 
the music box which had not been 
touched for six years; the great mir- 
ror was over the mantelpiece and 
still reflected the back of the gold 
clock and the dresden shepherdess; 
the delicate Haviland tea cups were 
on the tiny table by the sofa as they 
always had been every evening every 
year for as long as he could remem- 
ber. Everything was the same; and 
yet the room was different, unfriend- 
ly, not the room he had come home 
to find. In the first place, there was 
a man, this man who called himself 
Svinhufvud, standing in front of the 
little fireplace, warming the palms of 
his hands behind him. And in the 
second place, his mother was far 
back out of the firelight, almost in- 
visible in the shadow of the book- 
case. It was as if the mother he 
had known had left the room and 
that was what made it seem so 
strange to him. He had never before 
seen it without her sitting by the 
flre, welcoming him. 

Slowly he entered the room. Al- 
though he could not see his mother's 
eyes, he was keenly aware of her 
watching him and was uncomfortable 
inider the intensity of her gaze. 

"Come over here, son, let's have a 
good look at you," boomed the voice 
of Svinhufvud, strangely out of place 
beside the quiet ticking clock and the 
gentle crackle of the fire. In fact 
everything about the man was out of 
place in the room. He looked too 
large beside the tea table and the 
dresden shepherdess. But, strangely 

enough, Armas felt that it was not 

the man who was out of place; it was 
the room that was too small. This 
was almost the first time he had ever 
seen a good-sized man here; he only 
now, for the first time, realized what 
a dainty, fragile, feminine room he 
had grown up in. He forgot its 
beauty and could only see its deli- 
cate insignificance and its lack of 
solidity. The china was too thin, the 
chairs were too spindly, the curtains 
v.'ere too fine a mesh, the fire was too 
quiet. And for the first time he no- 
ticed that the dresden shepherdess 
was smirking and artificial. 

"So you're Heinrik's son!" Svin- 
hufvud's voice startled him. "I'd 
never pictured his boy growing up in 
a room like this, with these things." 
He indicated the china shepherdess 
and the gold clock with a careless 
wave of his hand. "But you're like 
him enough, I can see that." 

"Was — was he small as I am?" 

"Oh, I wouldn't say so exactly. He 
was short, but stockier and more 
powerful-looking than you are. You 
have the delicate build of your 
mother. But your face is like his, 
the same stiff jaw-line, and a light in 
the eyes too." 

"Tell me about him — the way he 
acted, the way he felt about things," 
Armas said eagerly. "Was he ever 
called a coward?" 

There was a quick movement and 
a little sound from where his mother 
sat. but neither of them noticed it. 

"A coward you say! Heinrik 
called a coward?' ' Svinhufvud stared 
at him. "Why should he be called a 

Armas was puzzled and disturbed. 
Svinhufvud wasn't helping him any. 

"What I meant was, what kind of 
argument would he have given if 
someone had called him a coward?" 

"Argument!" Svinhufvud grinned. 
"If anyone had been damn fool 
enough to call Heinrik a coward, he 
would have . . ." 

Suddenly a stifled cry from the 
other side of the room interrupted 
him. Armas' mother had risen and 
was coming toward them. She 
stopped behind the sofa and leaned 
her hands unsteadily against the 
back. For a full moment she stood 
there silent, almost unaware that 
they were watching her or waiting 
for her to speak. Her face was still 
very pale and her hands were white 
against the dark blue of the up- 
holstei'y- Her eyes were wide open 
and terrified. Finally she turned 
them to look at her son. He felt that 
they were boring deep, deep into him. 
The sheer force of them compelled 

him to take a step toward her. He 

was frightened. He tried to say 
something. He had never seen his 
mother like this before. 

"Don't you feel well. Mother?" 
His voice was almost a whisper. 

The words seemed to bring her to 
her senses. She straightened up and 
toolt a deep breath. 

"You — you — wouldn't you like some 
tea? Some tea," she turned to Svin- 
hufvud, "Before you go out in the 

"But I told you before I don't 
drink tea, you know." He seemed a 
little surprised. 

Her eyes had returned to Armas. 

"Yes, of course, of course you did, 
but my son must have some. He al- 
ways has it when he comes home." 

When she handed him the cup she 
looked up into his face, searchingly, 
hungrily, pitifully. He wanted to say 
something, ask her what disturbed 
her so tei-ribly, to even touch her, but 
it was impossible. She was like a 
stranger to him and very remote. So 
he only took the cup and turned 

Svinrufvud was sitting in the chair 
beside the fire. 

"I suppose you've been following 
the progress of the war pretty closely 
living here so near the front. There's 
a good chance we'll be able to keep 
them out of this city at least — if we 
can get enough men." 

Armas stiffened. The man turned 
to him. 

"You'll be called out to the colors 
pretty soon now. I'm surprised you 
haven't been yet." He looked at 
Armas v/ith a curious expression. 
"They need men like you. Why don't 
you beat them to it and join of your 
own accord?" 

"Join!" Armas stared at him in 
amazement. "You," he cried angrily. 
"You who knew my father can ask 
me that, dare ask me to give up . . ." 

" . . .to give up his home here," 
his mother interrupted quickly and 
with a certain desperation. "He 
means he cannot think of joining be- 
cause it may mean . . . mean . . . 
leaving me and his home in danger." 

Armas tried to speak but no words 
would come. Clumsily he set down 
the tea cup and turned to face his 

"In the long run he'd do better for 
his home by joining," Svinhufvud 
said, shaking his head. 

"But," she continued, breathlessly, 
hardly paying attention to her words, 
anxious only to keep Armas from 
speaking. "Don't you see he feels so 
strongly about it he would rather 
stay here and be ready to meet the 


April 17, 1940 


Page Thirteen 

soldiers to defend the things he loves 
with his own hands than ..." Sud- 
denly she stopped and turned white, 
realizing she had spoken in too much 
haste. The last of her strength to 
resist suddenly deserted her and she 
sank down weakly into the sofa. 

Armas could only stand and stare 
at his mother. The words she had 
spoken were drumming in his ears, 
but still he could not believe them. 
That she . . . she of all people, who 
had taught him the principles, who 
had made them real to him . . . 
should have at last deserted him, 
dared to desert his father. Everyone 
and everything seemed hopelessly 
against him. For a moment he felt 
lost . . . 

Suddenly he drew himself up. He 
would stand alone! He was his 
father's son and he would have liked 
to make that father proud of him. In 
scorn he turned to Svinrufvud. 

"I Vi'ill never join the army . . . 
nor \\'ill I ever defend my home with 
force. There are far more important 
things than force. And I will never 
use it ... to save my home or my 
coi'Htry ... or my life." He was 
exhilarated with the magnificence of 
his feeling. He felt very close to his 
father now. 

"I can't believe it," Svinhufvud was 
murmuring. "I can't believe that 
Hemrik's son is a coward. A coward 
so msan that he deceives himself into 
thinking he is a brave man." 

"No, no ... " came a choking gasp 
from his mother. 

Armas v/as tense with anger. Even 
this man d^red to call him a coward. 
Did he look like a coward? Did he 
act like a coward? Another man 
would fight, could stand up and prove 
that he had courage and that he was 
strong and that he was not afraid. 
But Armas could do nothing except 
stand and look foolishly, ineffectually 
angrv. He clenched his flsts. It 
would be so easy to hit a man. Sure- 
ly he wasn't so completely bound 
that he couldn't even once let go and 
pi'ove that he had courage? 

"You say I am a coward?" His 
voice was intensely quiet. 

Svinhufvud laughed at him. 

"Don't tell me that now you're de- 
nying it! After all you've said?" 

"But what I said," Armas began, 
choking over his own words, "... 
that doesn't prove I'm a coward!" 

"The devil it doesn't! You're a 
stinking coward and you might just 
as well admit it!" He seemed to be 
purposely goading him on. 

Armas took a quick step fonvard, 
his muscles tensed. Svinhufvud stood 
up easily and laughed down at him. 

"So . . . you've already forgotten 
your high words about not using 
force, have you? I expected as 

"No!" Armas cried out and all of 
his pent up fury was released. "No, 
I've not forgotten! I've never for- 
gotten ... all my life I've remem- 
bered. If I'd only been able to for- 
get once, just once, but no, never!" 
His voice shook and he dropped his 
arms. "Always I've been called a 
coward . . . always . . . always . . . 
and I've never in my life done any- 
thing about it. So I won't now . . . 
you needn't be afraid, Svinhufvud, 
call me a coward!" 

"By God! What kind of a son has 
Heinrik got? If your father were 
here he'd throw you out of his house 
for a damned traitor!" 

"My . . . my father! , . . What 
are you daring to say?" It was as if 
something heavy had struck him, 
crushing out all his fury. He felt 
that the room was sinking away from 
him, leaving him balanced on a pin- 
nacle above nothingness. 

"Your father was the best fighter 
in the regiment! He had a magnifi- 
cent temper and there wasn't a man 
could beat him. Surely your mother's 
told you how he died in a hand to 
hand fight with four soldiers. He 

"No ... no ... " she cried out in 
anguish, jumping up and holding out 
her hands as if to stop the onrushing 
flood of what she saw before her. 
"No, no, he doesn't know ..." Her 
voice sank away into nothing as she 
saw the expression on her son's face. 
It strangled something deep within 
her and she dropped back onto the 
sofa as if she had been an empty 
dress flung there. Svinhufvud also 
saw Armas' face and he began to be 
alarmed at what he had done. They 
could hear the fire crackling and the 
clock ticking and the sounds of their 
own breathing. There were noises, 
faint noises out on the street, so 
muffled they were only a distant m.ur- 
mur like the hum of a great ma- 
chine. The firelight cast weird shad- 
ows on all their faces and made the 
glass flowers sparkle like diamonds. 
The dresden shepherdess was still 
smirking at the dresden shepherd and 
in the moving light it almost seemed 
as if she turned and laughed at the 
three motionless figures below her. 

At last Armas spoke, and his voice 
was very tired and so strange his 
mother could not have recognized it. 

"Is it true. Mother?" 

Her silence answered him. Slowly 
he turned around to her and she 

gasped at how old his face had be- 
come, knowmg he would never be 
anything but a stranger to her from 
this moment on. 

"Why?" was all he said. 

"Yes, what in God's name have 
you been telling him?" Svinhufvud 
asked a little hoarsely. 

"I don't know." Her voice was ex- 
pressionless, toneless, only a machine 
to form words. "When I saw him 
growing up like his father and lov- 
ing to fight, I wanted to save him. 
I couldn't have lived through again 
what I lived through when Heinrik 
ran off and left me, the day the war 
started." Her voice slowed down as 
if the machine needed winding. "I 
wanted to save Armas from it. I 
only wanted to save ..." The ma- 
chine cracked and was silent. 

Armas w/as staring into the fire 
again. It was strange that he didn't 
feel disturbed. His mind was a 
blank. He was surrounded by a 
beautiful, warm nothingness. The 
room didn't exist, his mother didn't 
exist, the man didn't exist, for the 
first time in his life his father didn't 
exist. There was nothing in the 
v.'hole world but this fire and it was 
tl-'e whole world. He got closer and 
closer to it. He could not get warm 

Suddenly a log fell at his feet and 
he jumped back, coming to his senses. 
He dully realized Svinhufvud was 
talking loudly about something but 
it seemed very far off and unimport- 
ant to him. He felt overpoweringly 
suffocated and hot. He turned and 
strode across the room. But still he 
felt too hot, still he felt as if he 
v/culd smother. He ran his hand 
through his hair and tugged at his 
collar as if it were strangling him. 
Finally he strode on out into the 
hall and to the front door. He flung 
it open. Cold, icy cold air struck 
hi; face, swept through his clothes, 
cle?red his brain. It was beginning 
to snow and he watched the flakes 
drifting down before him. 

Then he realized. He was free. 
He was free to do anything he wanted. 
Here, outside the door, lay the world. 
He could go out and pick a fight with 
all the men he met. He could go up 
to them and ask them if he were a 
coward and then he could be filled 
with exaltation when they dared not 
say anything but no. He could go 
out now and fight for his home and 
his country and his country's ideals. 
He would stai-t a new kind of life 
and be a new man and do new things. 
He had never yet begun to live. Joy- 
fully he glanced down the path, the 

Page Fourteen 


April 17, 1940 

path that would lead him out into 
the world. 

Then he saw the Larch . . . still 
silently, grimly looming over him. 
Almost without realizing it, he shiv- 
ered and drew back. Even here, on 
the porch, in the doorway he could 
feel that its dark shadow reached 
him, weighing him down and im- 
prisoning him. Even in this moment 
of freedom, it was still there. 

But there was something else out 
in the dark before him. He saw two 
men coming up the path, two uni- 
formed men carrying guns. They 
were soldiers and he would tell them 
now that he was going to join them. 

"Erik! And Kaarlo!" He cried in 
surprise. They would be the first to 
hear about it. 

But they did not answer his greet- 
ing. With grim faces they continued 
marcliing toward him. up onto the 
porch, up to the doorway. 

"Armas Jarnefelt, you are under 
arrest, to be court-marshaled for dis- 
obeying the command to enlist." 

He had forgotten. 

He heard a step behind him and a 
hand was laid on his shoulder. He 
turned and saw it was Svinhufvud. 
The man's face was very grave. 

"You refused to join?" 

"Yes, this afternoon." 

"What a pity I came too late!" 

Armas saw an old woman standing 
holding his coat and with a terrible 
shock he realized it was his mother. 
Wearily she stepped forward and 
held it up for him. Without a word 
he got into it and took the hat from 
her hands. As he put it on, and in 
spite of himself, he met her eyes. 
For a moment they stood looking at 
each other. 

"Armas," she faltered. 

He leaned over and kissed her 
cheek, but it was a stranger's cheek. 
He tried to smile, to make her face 
less old and her eyes less staring, but 
he was too upset by the realization 
that he had known only the part she 
had played and not the real mother. 
He would have liked to stay and 
learn to know her; as it was, the 
other mother was so dead that he 
could not remember her at all and 
this mother he had never seen before. 
Reluctantly he turned away, clamp- 
ing his hat down further on his head. 
He fell in silently with the two sol- 
diers and together they walked down 
the path, passing once more under 
the shadow of the Larch. He did not 
cnce look back and it was only after 
they had reached the sidewalk that 
he remembered he had forgotten to 
say goodbye to Svinhufvud. 

Kaarlo turned to him. 

"Sorry it has to be us to do this, 
Armas . . . especially since we know 
why it is that you refused and we 
respect you for those principles of 

"Principles?" he asked. "I haven't 
any principles." 

"But . . . you wouldn't fight!" 

"I've changed my mind. I want to 
fight now more than anything else in 
the world." He said it casually, as 
if it didn't matter particularly to 
him. He felt that he was very far 
lemoved from himself, looking down 
on himself. 

"Oh . . . now that you've discov- 
ered that not fighting is a lot worse," 
Erik cried with his old scorn. "We 
might have known. Well, it's too late 
now, you know." 

"Yes," he said quietly. "I know." 

"Principles! I always thought you 
were pretty much of a coward!" 

A coward? He had been called a 
coward again and now he was free 
to do something about it. Calmly 
and deliberately Armas turned and 
drew back his arm. Then, with a 
swing that was so well timed it 
vvould have surprised himself . . . 
if he had been capable of surprise 
... he landed his first squarely on 
Erik's jaw. With a cry of amazement 
the soldier fell. Before Kaarlo could 
even understand what had happened, 
and, since he was doing the thing, 
Armas had landed another fist on his 
chin and he too dropped to tlie side- 
walk. Armas stood looking down on 
them without the slightest feeling of 
pleasure or exaltation. As they sat 
there pulling themselves together, he 
knew he could run off, quite easily 
escape from them and all that was 
waiting for him. But he chose to 
stay. There would really be nothing 
for him to run away to. He realized 
now that he was not free after all. 
He still couldn't fight with an easy 
conscience ... he felt like asking 
their pardon. And he still had not 
proved to anybody that he wasn't a 
coward. He had only taken advan- 
tage of their unsuspecting leniency. 
They were right about him and only 
a coward would have hit them as he 
had. It would take more than this 
lo teach him to fight and it would 
take more than this to convince the 
rest of the world that he wanted to 

They slowly and angrily got to their 
feet. Erik was fighting mad, and 
Kaarlo had to lay a restraining hand 
on his arm. But there was no friend- 
ship even in his face now and Armas 
knew that they would not make it 

any easier for him at the court-mar- 

In an ominous silence they snapped 
handcuffs on him and pushed their 
pistols into his back. 

"No telling what even a coward 
will do," Erik muttered. 

"No telling," Kaarlo replied. 

Armas said nothing. 

The last thing, as they were turn- 
ing the corner, he looked back, be- 
yond the straggling footsteps in the 
snow, beyond the dark patch where 
they had fought, beyond the other 
houses and hedges and trees, to his 
home. Far off like a great shadow 
against the sky he could see the 
black outline of the Larch . . . the 
spidery branches of the Larch, the 
LTrch he had always feared, the 
Larch that had been the symbol of 
his father's philosophy. All of that 
was so far off it could have belonged 
in another world, a world that was 
gone now. Only the tree remained. 
Lven when they turned the corner 
and new trees, new houses were sil- 
houetted against the sky, still, above 
them all, rose the shadow of the 
Larch. As far as they went it could 
still be seen and he knew with a 
Ivind of desperate hopelessness that 
he would never quite be able to 
escape from it. 





812 Wood Street 
Wilkinsburg, Pa. 

CHurchill 0373 






For Discriminating Women 
JAckson 4086 5875 Forbes Street 

April 17, 1940 


Page Fifteen 

Th€ Man cf th€ Hcijr 

It seems that W&J is in the ascend- 
ant this month, what with a prom, 
cotillion, and the Quadrille (which 
should only be mentioned in a rev- 
erent whisper, we understand, and 
with three salaams to the south- 
west) and we have decided to wall^ 
abreast of the times — instead of run- 
ning alter them breathlessly as is 
our wont — and devote this colyum 
to the oldest men's college west of 
the Alleghenies (W&J, or did you 

We imagine that men at W&J are 
much the same as men everywhere 
else, unless perhaps they are a little 
bit more so. And men evei-ywhere 
else have certain faults, which we 
suppose are prevalent at Jay as well 
— if not more so, and who's to judge? 
At any rate, some friends of ours 
have two tame spies which they 
have offered to us for the occasion 
and we are going to make use of 
them to try to give you a rather 
garbled impression of Jay men at 
their best and worst. We shall give 
you the worst first and then you can 
sweeten up again on the best. 

Perhaps the nastiest thing about 
the little Jaybirds is that they either 
call all at once or not at all, so that 
the poor bewildered female is either 
besieged with invitations or else sits 
at home — and then they so fre- 
quently call at the last minute, ob- 
viously sure that no one else would 
have called said girl; and that is 
certainly not very flattering to the 
fairer sex. 

Of course, they support the malt 
industry — so much so in fact that I 
think there are several testimonials 
hanging around town someplace (Or 
did they finally graduate?). This ir, 
turn aids the milk industry (malted 
milk-shakes, of course stupid) and 
you can see that whether you con- 
sider this a virtue or a vice it does 
help business. 

The dances are usually so packed, 
we hear, that the more strenuous 
steps are quite impossible, and even 
those who merely sway in time to the 
music (about our speed) must put 
out their hands before making a 
turn — rather a problem, but as half 
the people leave about an hour and a 
half after they get there, and as 
about one fifth of them get side- 
tracked and never show up at all, it 
isn't as serious as it might other- 
wise seem. About eleven-thirty 
there is usually a small circle about 
two feet in diameter which you can 

call your own if you can success- 
fully delend it against all invaders. 

The Quadrille (hush, hush — blas- 
phemy) is very lovely to watch — 
because they naturally put the peo- 
ple who know how to do it in the 
most conspicuus places — and the 
manners are lovely on the surface; 
though we are told that frequently 
certain urbane gentlemen bow 
charmingly and announce with a 
courteous smile and in a sotto voice 
"Come on. Babe, let's show 'em 

As for the love life of a Jay man 
it is usually quite varied — and Ihe 
necessary changes they manage quite 
smoothly, as a rule. Our spies re- 
port that the Jaybirds are not quite 
as tight with their pins as some 
otlier places that have been brought 
to our attention, and perhaps they 
do not mean so much either, thougli 
we are sure that there are excep- 
tions to this as well as every other 
rule. We have heard tell of gents 
with two or more pins which they 
have tenderly planted in different 
parts of the country — and we have 
also heard tell of certain lads wlio 
have ended up with two or three 
prom dates, and have desperately 
and bewilderedly tried at the last 
minute to weed out the superfluous 
ones. We would be the last to con- 
demn or judge anybody for this how- 
ever, for our own house certainly 
isn't built entirely of brick. 

All in all. Jay men are no faultier 
than men anywhere else (and all of 
them can be pretty bad) and they 
have the ability to show any gal a 
wonderful time if they feel so in- 
clined. It may be a rather haywire 
evening, but those are the most fun 
and provide the happiest memories 
and if no one is too serious — well, 
then no one gets hurt. It comes to 
the same thing in the end. 

We quite approve of Jay men Irom 
all we've heard about them — we 
must get around to meeting one 
some time. Thanking our friends for 
the use of their quite domesticated 
spies we remain — that's our function, 
you see. 


Margaret Jeanne Bebertz, '41 

Rain can mean so many things: 
Relief . . . 

To a drought stricken people 
Thankful to God lor their deliver- 
From the agony of thirst — 

Coolness . . . 

To people in a city 

A city where the heat wave is at its 

Children run out in nothing 
To let the drops wash 
The stickiness from their backs — 

Terror . . . 

To low-landers 

The rush to haul away 

Battered furniture 

Battered from many moves like this 

Scrambling away 

Looking back to see black swirls 

Tearing at their house foundations. 

The farmer raises his head 

To let it roll from his hard 

Weather-beaten skin 

He counts the money he can save 

Now that God is doing the 

The disappearance of a 

False sky of smog 

For a few hours 

The washed swell of clear air 

In the places ol belching furnaces 

Smokestacks — 

Rain can mean these things and 

Rain can cause one to teel 


The fall of it on the roof 

The beat of it against the pane 

These things^ 

These things the rain can mean. 



Fresh Candies, Soda and Ice Cream 


Fifth and Wilkins Avenues 

Pittsburgh, Pa. 

Telephone MAyflower 0145 


601 Penn Avenue 

MOntrose 2144 

Page Sixteen 


Air op 


Susan Wooldridge, ^41 

The sun, which had no business 
being so bright in January, startled 
Mrs. Carver out of a sound sleep. 
She lay still, her eyes screwed up 
to keep out the bright light, and 
wondered angrily why the maid had 
not pulled down the blind. Outside 
the streets were already awake. Foot- 
steps hurried on the pavement. 
Something was familiar about them. 
Oh, that was the way Paula always 
walked. The wind, teasing the last 
leaf on a branch of the oak tree out- 
side, rapped it annoyingly against 
the window. She did not want to 
get up and meet those people. They 
would all say such embarrassing 
things. But she must get up, she 
must. Groping for the bell to call 
Kitty, the maid, she jabbed it sev- 
eral times. Had the postman come 
she wondered. There probably 
would be a lot of letters. 

"Any mail for me, Kitty?" she de- 
manded as the maid appeared in the 
doorway, and then without waiting 
for an answer she directed her to 
pull down the blind and get her 

"No, ma'am," Kitty answered auto- 
matically and then added, "The post- 
man hasn't been here yet but a 
special delivery came for Miss 

Mrs. Carver snatched the letter 
and ripped it open. The maid went 
out muttering to herself, "Many's 
the time I've seen her steam open 
Miss Paula's mail and then seal it 
again." She snorted. "And now she 
tears right into it." 

Mrs. Carver looked again at the 
post-mark. It had come air-mail 
from Arizona. She thought, , "It 
must be from that silly young man 
she said she was going to marry." 

Opening the letter she read the 
scrawling handwriting. 

Your letter came yesterday morn- 
ing and boy was I glad to hear from 
you. It's swell to hear from home 
but a thrill to get a letter from you. 

The big "cut-up" is coming off to- 
morrow early and Dr. Holland says 
the only thing 1 11 be yelling about 
is to be allowed to get ud in a few 
weeks and come home. And, worry 
■wort, I'll be back in Pittsburgh 'fore 
you know it to drag you down to 
the Court House to get the license, 
mother or no mother. By the way 
how is the Grande Dame; not rec- 
onciled to me yet? Well, she'll have 

to get used to me in time whetber 
she likes it or not. 

How's that silly job of yours com- 
ing along? Still keep you dashing 
madly around the streets? But lis- 
ten here, my cherub, quit taking 
chances and be careful. Such nar- 
row escapes don't happen every day, 
especially on icy streets. An impetu- 
ous gal like you needs a cautious guy 
like me to show her how to cross 

I'm holding this until the opera- 
tion's over so I can put my o. k. on 
it and tell you how it ieels to be 
sliced open and sewn together 
again. So long till later. All my 



P. S. I had a funny dream last 
night. I dreamt you came and held 
my hand during the operation. Gosh, 
how I'd love it! 

J. M. 

Written below in a small, neat 
script Paula's mother read: 

"Mr. James Munroe died during 
the operation Monday morning at 
8:45. This letter was found ad- 
dressed and stamped, therefore we 
are forwarding it to you." 

As Mrs. Carver read the last 
message she frowned. Sinking back 
upon the pillow she let the letter 
drop to her side. 

"Jim — Paula." 

She felt suddenly old and \-ery 
lired. Tears came to her eyes as, 
with an effort she looked at the let- 
ter once more. 

"Monday — the day Paula was kill- 

Our Monthly Reminder — 

Pati-onize Your Music Store 


Hacke Building 
207 Fifth Ave. Pittsburgh, Pa. 

April 17, 1940 


By Harden Armstrong, '42 

It is a grim paradox 

That men 

Who when they die are buried 


Should now creep there 


To hide themselves from death. 


■<2I^ La'.<. woftK. GUAWANTeeo- _ i 

SlHStRPOliCirTSHOF 'JiN';i,^s1^& 

Pens of best makes — $1 to $10 
Name engraved free on S2.50 up 





SChenley 9811 5610 Wilklns Ave. 





5882 Rippey Street MO. 2155 

Le€s Meet 

at the 

Debs Corner 

East End Store 
6018 Penn Avenue 



Johnston The Florist 

MOntrose 7777 


5841 FORBES ST. ! 
HAzel 1012 I 


Pennsylvania College for Women, Pittsburg-h, Pa., May 22, 1940 

No. 8 


? f" 

Page Two 


May 22, 19-10 


Pennsylvania College for Women 
Pittsburgh, Pa. 

Subscription sl^l.OO per year in advance 

1939 Member 1940 

P)ssociated Golie6iale Press 


National Advertising Service, Inc. 

College Publishers Representative 
A2.0 Madison Ave. New York. N.Y. 

Chicago • Boston • Los Angeles • San FRANCfsco 

Editorial Staff 

Co-Editors Bettv Eastwood. '40 

Rachel Kirk. '40 

Business Manager Ruth Fite. '40 

News Editor Nancy Over. '40 

Assistant News Editor Dorothy Evans, '42 

Feature Editor Jo Anne Healey, '41 

Literary Editors Renee Schreyer, '40 

Jean Miller, '42 

Copy Editor Claire Stewart. '42 

Make-up Editor Katherine Rutter, '40 

Assiitcnt Make-up Editor Margaiet Wragg, '43 

Sta.- ;^-'aoiogr£pher Catherine Thompson. "40 

Proof Readers Jean Hammer, '41 

Louise Haldeman. '43 
Claire Horwitz. "43 

Copy Readers Rosemarie FilippeJli. '43 

Marjorie Noonan. '43 
Faculty Advisor Hazel C. Shupp 

News Staff 

Jane Evans. Dorothy Marshall. Lucille Cummins, Jean Sweet, Marion 
Rowell. Helen Waugh. Margaret Anderson, Mary Ann Mackey, Betty 
Ann Morrow, Marian Lambie. 

Feature Staff 

Helen Schellkopt. Mildred Stewart. Jean Burchinal. Althea Lowe, 
Betty Brown. Mary Louite Henry. Jeanne Anne Ayres. Mary Evelyn 
Ducey, Janet Ross, Betty Crawford. 

Business Staff 

Betty Bacon. Alison Croft. Peggy Dietz. Jane Fitzpatrick, Eleanor 
Garrett. Virginia Gillespie. Marjorie Higgins. Beth Howard. Jane 
McCall, Mary Jane McCormick. Nancy Scott. Gloria Silverstein, Mary 
Singer, Bizzy Ward, Lois Wirth. 

Jottings in the Margin 

No matter how many times you see it, tiie suddenness 
of spring is a surprise . . .Lullaby . . . the whirring of 
lawn mowers outside the library windows on a sunny 
afternoon . . . The Chinese have a proverb, "Life is so 
poignantly beautiful . . . With the coming of May in a 
chaotic world, the proverb assumes painful truth . . . 
Senior slump ... a hollow-eyed stare, shuffling gait, 
tendency to gaze out of windows and doodle along the 
margin . . . Signs-of-the-end-of-the-semester . . . in- 
ability of the freshmen to answer the telephone, a new 
authority in the eyes of the juniors . . . What a pity that 
the class of 1940 had to wait nearljr four years before they 
found what fun it was to work together . . . Speaking as 
a senior, we would much rather be a big frog in this little 
PCW puddle than be a very small frog in the great, wide 


Next fall, when the campus lies warm in the October 
sun and the morning mist sifts silver across the amphi- 
theater, some of us will not be coming back to answer the 
bells for classes and to write notes on the den blackboard. 
We do not know where we will be, most of us, and we find 
it hard to believe that we shall ever carve anywhere else 
a niche as serenely happy as the one we have cut out in 

For four years, we have centered our activities, our 
thoughts, in the college. Hei'e we have developed our 
little talents, formulated our shaky plans, clarified our 
nebulous ideas and ideals. Even summer vacation was 
a time to rest from the exertions of the winter and store 
up energy for the school year to come. It was almost as 
if we had no existence outside the campus and classroom. 

The thing that is hardest for us to bear right now is 
the making of plans for the next school year. It is enough 
of a wrench to say good-bye without being forced to 
realize that the college will continue to function even 
after the class of 1940 has vacated the seats of authority. 
We are experiencing in small measure the great tragedy 
of human kind — the ease with which it is replaced. 

So, if we seem more than ordinarily sentimental, chalk 
it up to the fact that we feel that we are leaving behind' 
us four bright years of our youth, and that nobody seems 
to care very much. Still, it cannot be sheer sentimental- 
ity — our sadness at leaving PCW. 

The years have been bright. We have worked. We 
have, perhaps, become tired of lines of print and scrawl- 
ings in a note-book and papers due on such-and-such a 
day. We have complained about the steps to be climbed 
each day and books that aren't in the library and fresh- 
men who don't answer the phone. We have been busy 
and rushed, but we have been happy. 

Fi'om our years at PCW, we have learned more than 
lists of Egyptian kings and the development of the novel 
and formulae for carbohydrates. We have learned that 
there are still in the world dignity and graciousness and 
goodness, and that woman's place is to preserve and ex- 
tend them. On the other hand, we have been taught to 
look at the earth around us and to see it clearly, without 
flinching, and we have been led to think about solutions 
for its problems. We have had beauty and friendship and 
stimulation, if we never had them before, or if we never 
have them again. 

Then, of course, there are the things which will always 
mean PCW to us — the creak of stairs, the soft glow of gas 
lamps, great whoops of laughter at faculty plays, wind 
ruffling ivy, fierce and desperate typing of term papers, 
"We'll shape our lives to be. Mansions of beauty to 

And so good-bye. 

Well, no, not good-bye; we want to see how the new 
honors system works out and whether anyone wishes 
clubs next year and how the proposed buildings look and 
whether the seniors win Color Day next fall. 

And now, it is over. Underclassmen have already 
been installed into the offices we have held for this last 
year, and Friday, we will leave the chapel as a class, 

May 22, 1940 THE ARROW 

Graduating Class Plans Varied Program 

During Week of Coniniencenient Activities 

Entire Student Body Will Participate In 
Traditional Illumination Night Ceremony 

Commencement activities this parade down the road to the am- 

year will begin on Thursday, June phitheater where they sing school 

6. That evening a iormal dinner will songs and form the letters, PCW, 

be given for the seniors. with their lanterns. The program is 

The senior breakfast will be held ^\°^^'^ *'"? ^he singing of the Alma 

at the Field Club on Friday, June 7. ^^^en The reception is followed 

Inez Wheldon is in charge of this •=>' "^ '^^"^e i" the chapel, 
gygjjt. The Baccalaureate sermon will be 

given at the Third Presbyterian 

^ ^5,5--!. Church, Fifth and Negley Avenues, 

Sunday, June 9, at 11 A. M. The 

sermon will be given by Dr. Louis 

H. Evans. At this time the faculty 

•r will take part in the procession, 

^> which will be lead by Louise Cald- 

fe^^ well, president of the junior class 

^^1^, and Elaine Fitzwilson, president of 

^ ~ - *^ next year's senior class, who will act 

as marshals. Rev. N. R. High Moor 

D. D.. dean of Trinity Cathedral will 

^.^ conduct Vespers which will begin 

*™ ^ - at 5:30 P. M. in the auditorium. Mr. 

*'^**' . Collins, organ instructor, has ar- 

J^a ranged for an instrumental pro- 

^B gram, using the organ and various 

Hj pieces of the instrumental ensemble. 

^B The program is as follows: 

^H Romance in A Minor, op. 94 No. 

WM Betty Gahagan and Earl B. Collins 
Andante from Concerto in E 

MARY ELLEN CHASE Minor • ■ . Mendelssohn 

Saturday at 4 o'clock in the chapel, Violin and Organ 

the seniors will attend an Alumnae ^ay Cumbler and Earl B. Colhns 

meeting to be followed by a din- Grave-Poco Largo Loeillet 

ner in Woodland Hall at 6. This al- ^^ute. Oboe and Organ 

so is given by the Alumnae. At 9 R"th Patton, Betty Gahagan and 

o'clock on the eighth will be held the ^^'"^ ^- ^°P^ 

President's reception for the senior The Glee Club, under the direction 

class, a tiaditional part of the il- of Mrs. Ayres, will also contribute 

lumination night ceremonies. At 9 two selections. Jean Watson will 

o'clock the campus is illuminated by sing a solo, "O Rest in the Lord," 

Japanese lanterns and the procession- from Mendelssohn's Ellah, and the 

al begins. The juniors and seniors entire chorus will present: O Taste 

march down the front steps of Ber- and See, by Sir John Goss. Com- 

ry Hall onto the campus. The girls mencement morning there will be 

march four abreast; the seniors, two numbers by the chorus. They 

marching in the middle, carrying are as follows: 

bouquets, and the juniors march on Smiling Dawn Handel 

either side, carrying the rose chain. From Jephtha 

The procession is led by the two May Day Carol . . English Folksong 
most attractive juniors and seniors Arranged by Deems Taylor 

elected by the student body. The Commencement exercises will take 

procession continues across the cam- place Monday, June 10 at 10:30 A. 

pus where the seniors form the re- M. on campus. In case of rain, the 

ceiving line, heade;! by Miss Marks, event will take place in the Third 

Dr. and 'Mrs. Spencer, and the senior Presbyterian Church. The faculty 

advisor. will lead the procession, and the two 

The freshmen and sophomores junior marshals will precede the 

Page Three 

Seniors Will Hold 
Annual Dinner 

The traditional senior dinner will 
be held in Woodland Hall, Thursday 
evening, June 6. Miss Marks, Dr. and 
Mrs. Spencer, Miss Robb and Dr. 
Wallace are the hosts and hostesses 
for the affair. 

After dinner, the dorm girls who 
are not seniors come to serenade 
the guests. They then sing to each 
senior, who, if she is engaged, must 
run around the table frontwards, 
and if married, backwards. 

The dinner will be formal. It has 
also been decided to have a dance 
afterwards for seniors only. 

The committee in charge of com- 
mencement weelv, of which the din- 
ner is one event, consists of Ginnie 
Scott, Ruth Bauer, Betty Crawford, 
Frances Siroup and Inez Wheldon. 
Miss Marks and Miss Robb are the 
faculty advisors of the committee. 

Yearbooks Scheduled 
For Distribution 

The Pennsylvanian will be distrib- 
uted Friday, May 24, Nancyann 
Cockerille, editor of the biennial 
publication, announced. 

Seniors will be given theirs in the 
second hand book store. Juniors in 
the YW room. Sophomores in room 
P, and Freshmen in the Arrow of- 

The Pennsylvanian will be an ex- 
hibit of the Warren Paper Company 
which chooses forty yearbooks of 
colleges and universities to be in its 

The yearbook and the other PCW 
publications will be on exhibition in 
the college and university center at 
the World's Fair this summer. 

seniors. Mr. Collins will play sev- 
eral marches and the Glee Club will 
sing. The speaker v/ill be Mary 
Ellen Chase, author and professor 
of English language and literature 
at Smith College, whose subject will 
be "An Old Word in a New Setting." 
After her address, honors will be an- 
nounced and the Anna Dravo Parkin 
Memorial Prize for excellence in his- 
tory will be presented. Conferring 
of degrees in course will then take 

After the exercises, the new grad- 
uates and their families will be the 
guests of the administration and 
faculty for luncheon. 

Page Four 


May 22, 1940 

President Spencer 
Announces Neiv 
Faculty Members 

President Spencer has announced a 
few changes in laculty for the com- 
ing year. 

Leave of absence for the year has 
been granted by the Board of Trus- 
tees to Dr. Margaret T. Doutt, Acting 
Head of the Department of Biology, 
to Miss Eleanor K. Taylor, Assistant 
Professor of English and Lecturer in 
Sociology, and to Miss Helen Er- 
rett. Instructor in Physical Educa- 
tion. Miss Taylor and Miss En-ett 
will spend the year studying. Miss 
Taylor completing worlv for her 
Ph.D. degree at the University of 
Chicago, and Miss Errett taking work 
in the modern dance at Columbia 

Dr. Montgomery Retiims 

Dr. Edward W. Montgomery, Head 
of the Department of Sociology and 
Economics, who has been on a part- 
time leave of absence for the past 
two years in order to do special worlv 
at the Juvenile Court, will return to 
the campus on full-time. 

Dr. Laura North Hunter, Assist- 
ant Professor of Biology, will resign 
at the end of this school year in order 
to accept a position at Vassar Col- 
lege. She also plans to be married in 
June to Dr. Arthur L. Colwin, who 
teaches biology at Queens College in 
New Yorlv. After a wedding trip, the 
two biologists plan to spend the 
summer at the Marine Biological 
Laboratories in Woods Hole, Massa- 
chusetts, where they are pursuing a 
special research. 

Dr. Phyllis Cook Martin will re- 
turn to PCW to teach in the Depart- 
ment of Biology next year. Some will 
remember her as Miss Phyllis Cook, 
who was on the faculty here from 
1935 to 1937. She has been doing spe- 
cial research at the University of 
Pennsylvania, where she worked 
with Dr. Whiting who was formerly 
head of the Biology Department 
here. We are particularly fortunate 
in being able to secure Dr. Martin, 
for she has proved herself an out- 
standing biologist and teacher. 

Also coming to the Biology De- 
partment next year is Miss Margaret 
Kaeiser, who receives her Ph.D. de- 
gree from the University of Illinois 
this June. Miss Kaeiser had her un- 
dergraduate work at the University 
of Oklahoma, and she has taught 
both there and at the University of 
Illinois. She has had a very interest- 

Music Students 
Give Recital 

students of the music department 
will present their final recital Friday, 
May 24, at 8:30, in the auditorium. 

The program will be as follows: 

Concerto in E minor . Mendelssohn 
Allegro molto appassionato 
Fay Cumbler 

Caro Nome from "Rigoletto," 

Helen Ruth Henderson 

Sacre-monte from "Danses 

Gitanes" Turina 

Canco I Dansa Mombou 

Mary Kay Eisenberg 

Si mi chiamano Mimi from 

"La Boheme" Puccini 

Eileen Wessel 

Waltz Op. 42 Chopin 

Marion Cohen 

Ich liebe dich Grieg 

Ich grolle nicht Schumann 

Jane Hanauer 

Spring Song Maefarland 

Florence Succop 

Elegie Rachmaninoff 

Mai-y Elizabeth Rope 

Duet from "Lohengrin" Act II 

scene 2 Wagner 

Jane Hanauer, Gladys Cooper 

Weiner Tanz No. 2, 

Julia Wells 

Sonata No. 2 in C minor, 

Grave — Adagio 
Allegro maestoso vivace 
Ruth Clark 
Accompanists — Mary Elizabeth 
Jenkins and Sally Cooper McFarland. 

ing experience, and will have much 
to give students here. 

Finally, Miss Marjorie Chubb, Sec- 
retary to the Dean, is resigning at 
the end of this year. Miss Chubb will 
be married to Mr. John Alden Ran- 
dall, of Pasadena, California, in July, 
and she will reside in California af- 
ter her marriage. Miss Chubb will 
be replaced by Miss Dorothy Hay- 
ford, a graduate of Oberlin College. 
Miss Hayford will receive her mast- 
ers degree in personnel work at Syr- 
acuse University in June. 

Summer School 
To Be Held 

Frick Commission 
Sponsors Course 

This summer, under the auspices 
of the H. C. Frick Educational Com- 
mission, there will be offered at PCW | 
a special summer school social serv- I 
ice course for public school teachers, I 
the only course of its kind in the 
country. The Frick Educational 
Commission is a committee appoint- 
ed by the estate of the late H. C. 
Frick and is a privately endowed or- 
ganization. This commission has 
given many scholarships and has 
done other beneficial work in edu- 

Course Begins July 1 

This course will be given at PCW 
from July first to July twentieth 
and during this time the teachers 
will live on campus. The facilities 
of the school will be at their dis- 
posal during this time. Each morn- 
ing of the week throughout the 
course, there will be a lecture by the 
following speakers. The fu-st week 
the lecturer wiU be Dr. Alexander 
J. Stoddard, who is at present Su- 
perintendent of the Public Schools of 
Philadelphia. The second week will 
be given over to talks by Dr. Ira 
S. Wile, a well-known psychiatrist 
from New York City. The speaker 
for the third week will be Miss Bess 
Goodykoontz, who is the assistant 
commissioner of Education of the 
United States. 

Field Trips Planned 

The mornings during the three 
weeks wUl be given over entirely to 
these lectures, but in the afternoons, 
there will be a variety of courses of- 
fered. Each afternoon there will be 
talks by speakers from various so- 
cial agencies from the Pittsburgh 
district and many from surround- 
ing districts. There are also many 
field trips planned. On these field 
trips, the groups will visit the many 
social agencies located in and near 
Pittsburgh. They wiU be conduct- 
ed on these tours by selected guides. 

In addition to studies, the teachers 
will be offered a pleasant social life 
just as in any other school. Their 
evenings will include parties, dances, 
small social gatherings and all the 
other recreations given to students. 


S -5__ 

j'WirilJl, 19^0 


Page Five 

Students Elect Officers 
For Next Year 

The officers of Student Gkivem- 
ment and Woodland Hall were re- 
cently elected. 

The officers ot SGA for next year 
are: Gladys Patton, President; Louise 
Caldwell, First Vice President; Julia 
Wheldon, Second Vice President; El- 
len Copeiand, Secretary; Louise Wal- 
lace, Treasurer; Peggy Matheny, 
Freshman Advisor: Nina Maley 
Sophomore member; Elaine Fitzwil- 
son. Senior class President; Barbara 
Maerl-cer, Junior class President; 
Brice Black, Sophomore class Presi- 
dent; Margaret Longwell, Chairman 
of the Honor Committee; Mary Linn 
Marks, President of YWCA; Jean 
McGown, President of Woodland 
Hall; Charlote Wolf, A. A. President; 
Alice Chattaway, Song Leader; Betty 
Gahagan, Pianist; Jo Anne Healey; 
and Jeanne Anne Ayres, Co-Editors 
of the Arrow. 

The officers of Woodland Hall are: 
Jean McGowan, President; Margaret 
Graham, Vice President; Margaret 
Anderson, Secretary; Jean Wyre, 
Ti-easurer; Shirley Clipson and Jane 
Pierce, Senior members; Alice Mc- 
Kain, Junior member; and Coleen 
Lauer, Sophomore member. 

Eaglesmere Conference 
To Be Held In June 

Ruth Clark, '40, is Chairman of the 
activities council for the annual 
summer conference of the Student 
Christian Movement to be held at 
Eaglesmere, June 9-June 15. At the 
conference there will be students 
and faculty from fifty or seventy-five 
colleges and universities. 

The theme of the conference will 
be Christian Living in a World of 
Conflict. Dr. Harold Bosley, minister 
of the Mount Vernon Place Metho- 
dist Church in Baltimore, will lead 
the discussions in the morning. 

There will be various discussion 
groups and informal talks about the 
various conflicts which students face 

Ruth, who is Chairman of the Re- 
gional Council of the Middle Atlan- 
tic Christian Movement, will attend 
the conference with six or eight oth- 
er girls from PCW after graduation. 

Eaglesmere, which is twenty miles 
from Williamsport, Pa., is in the 
mountains and on Eaglesmere Lake. 
In their spare time the "conference- 
goers" swim, canoe and hike. 

Proposed Auditorium and Student Union 



This is an architect's drawing of 
the proposed auditorium and student 
union, to be erected as a part of the 
building campaign. 

The five-year program to increase 
tlie endowment fund and to raise 
money for the building fund is 
progressing favorably. Dr. Spencer 
recently announced. Wliile only a 
few of the prospective donors have 
been interviewed, those to whom 
the committee had talked expressed 
a gi-eat deal of enthusiasm toward 
PCW as it stands in the civic and 
cultural li'e of the community. 

Parents who are interested in the 

campaign met with Mr. Artliur L. 
Braun. director of the campaign, 
April 24, to select names of persons 
from whom they will solicit money. 

At the Alumnae meeting May 15, 
it was decided to start an active 
alumnae campaign for the building 
and endowment fund. 

A radio vesper program, connect- 
ed with the building fund was broad- 
cast from the Shadyside Presbyterian 
Church, May 19. Dr. Hugh Thomp- 
son Kerr was in charge of the serv- 
ices and the Glee Club sang several 
selections. Mr. Braun and Dr. Spen- 
cer spolve during the program. 

Girls In Play Production Class Direct Plays 
For Presentation Today and Tomorrow 

As a final project each member of 
the play production class will direct 
a one-act play and take the leading 
role in one ot the other plays given 
by the class. 

Thornton Wilder's Happy Journey, 
directed by Jean Hill was given in 
chapel today. Margaret Bebertz 
played the lead in this one-act play 
of a family on vacation. Alice Pro- 
vost and Ella Hilbish were also in 
the cast. 

Tomorrow afternoon four other 
plays will be given by the class. 
Alice Provost will direct J. M. Bar- 
rie's Well Remembered Voice, and 
Betty Bacon and Janet Murray will 
play the leading roles. 

A one-act triologue. Wrong Num- 
bers, written by Essex Dane, will be 
directed by Alice Chattaway. Betty 
Bacon and Aileen Chapman will play 
the roles of shoplifters. 

Margaret Bebertz will direct the 
play, Miniken and Manikan, by 
Kremborg. The role of Miniken, the 
doll which has sat on the mantle for 
175 years, will be played by Mary 
Evelyn Ducey. 

The last play on the program virill 
be a one-act comedy, Comberley Tri- 
angle, by A. A. Milne. Betty Bacon, 
the director of the play has chosen 
as members of the cast, Alice Chat- 
taway, Loraine Wolf, Marianne Ma- 

Page Six 


May 22, 1940 

Stu€lents Approve 
Club Moratorium 
For Oue Year 

At SGA and YW Retreat held 
Wednesday, May 8, it was decided 
that a year's moratorium be called 
on all clubs with the exception oi' 
Glee Club and Ensemble. 

For the last five years the club sit- 
uation has been discussed when the 
old and the new boards of Student 
Government and YWCA met at Re- 
treat. This year it was agreed that 
the m.ajority of the clubs on campus 
were merely existing and not func- 
tioning vitally and that they were 
in need oi' change. 

Membership Too Limited 

Club membership covers only 100 
students or 33V3% of the entire stu- 
dent body and since membership in 
clubs is limited, it means tliat a 
large group does not participate in 
them. The freshmen who probably 
feel the need for club activities more 
than the upperclassmen are not eli- 
gible to join any of the clubs but 

A committee of old and new presi- 
>' dents of SGA, YWCA, and AA, Miss 
Marlvs, and Dr. Wallace, the re-elect- 
,, ed faculty advisor to the student 
body, was appointed to formulate a 
new activities plan. It will include 
a much larger proportion of students 
than the present club system, it will 
broaden the scope of interest groups 
and will invigorate them so that 
those participating will feel a real 
responsibility in the organization, 
Emd it will recognize the need for an 
enlarged social program. 

An activities council composed of 
the presidents o SGA, YWCA and 
AA, the social cliairmen of YW and 
SGA, and the newly elected club 
presidents wil be formed to direct 
the various activities under the guid- 
ance of the council major interest 

An enlarged social program will be 
planned for the entire student body. 
Gladys Patton, president of SGA, 
recommended that under the new 
system the talent and interests of 
all the students will be best used, 
a better school and class spirit will 
be promoted, and that it will work to 
the advantage of all the students. 

Gladys submitted tlie proposal to 
the student body at a special meet- 
ing of SGA, Tuesday, May 14. The 
motion was carried unanimously. 

Working for Honors 
Will Begin in Fall 

Comniitttee of Faculty 
To Direct ISew Program 

Next year's senior class will be the 
first class at PCW to have the oppor- 
tunity of doing special honors work. 

The committee on honors work 
has the sole power to select students 
for this work on the basis of the stu- 
dent's record, the recommendations 
of her teachers, and the scholastic 
aptitude test. 

Each student selected to do special 
honors work may choose with the 
committee's approval any faculty 
member that she wishes to have di- 
rect her woi'k. The faculty member 
will have charge of the student's 
program with the approval of the 
committee. A seminar plan has been 
provided which will enable the stu- 
dent to correlate all the work in the 
special field that she had in college 
under the faculty members in that 

Paper Required 

Every special honors student must 
submit a paper as a result of her 
special study. The paper will be 
due at the end of the spring vaca- 
tion of her senior year. 

She will also be given an oral ex- 
amination in the special field, in- 
cluding a defense of the paper. In 
geneial a field will be regarded as 
following the group divisions of the 
college catalogue. Exceptions will 
be allowed, however. 

Comprehensives Given 

A comprehensive examination, 
covering the field, will be given three 
weeks before the beginning of final 
examination period. A special plan 
has been worked out for the pre- 
paring and the administering of 
comprehensive examinations. Thus 
a candidate for special honors work 
will be exeinpted from course exam- 
inations at the end of her senior year. 
If, however, she fails the comprehen- 
sive examination, she may still take 
the course examinations and if she 
passes them, be graduated. The 
candidate will be graduated with 
special honors if she fuUfils the re- 
quirements with distinction. 

Along with special honors work 
there will be a further plan adopt- 
ed for general honors at graduation. 
General honors will be given only on 
the basis of the comprehensive ex- 
amination given to special honors 

Students Move Up 
In Annual Chapel 

Awards Will Be Given 
Original Songs Sung 

Annual Moving Up Day will be 
held Friday morning. May 24, in the 
chapel at 11:30. 

Gladys Patton, president of Stu- 
dent Government, will be in charge 
of tlie program. 

Awards and pins will be given 
out following a procession of the 
junior and senior classes. Each year 
the I. R. C. pins are given to fresh- 
men with the highest grades in his- 
tory. The A. A. will give a cup to 
tlie best all-around senior girl and 
also cups to the winners of the bad- 
minton and tennis tournaments. 

A biology scholarship will be 
awarded to a junior to go to Woods 
Hole in the summer. Two other S50 
scholarships in science will also be 
given. The Pittsburgh Female College 
Association Prize will be awarded 
to the junior oi outstanding rank 
who has also made a real contribu- 
tion to college life. 

Bracelets, jackets, and PCW pins 
will be given to the girls who have 
made the highest number of points 
according to tlie point system. 

The program will consist of each 
class singing original songs. The 
songs have been written by commit- 
tees fromi each class — seniors: Janet 
Ross, Louise Lean, Ruth Mary Ar- 
thur Jane Scott, Anne Miller and 
Mary Lou Shoemaker; juniors: Jane 
Shidemantle, Mary Linn Marks, 
Mary Kay Eisenberg, Alice Stein- 
marlv and Dorothy Geschv/indt; 
sophomores: Ellen Copeland, Peggy 
Matheny and Betty Gahagen; and 
freshmen: Jean Archer. 

Each class sings the moving up 
song and aiter t'ne senioi-s have left 
their places, the student 'oody moves 
up to their new seats. 

The program is closed with the 
singing of the Alma Mater. 

students. Preparation for the com- 
prehensives will be taken care of in 
a seniinar provided for it. 

The faculty urges all next year's 
seniors to take the comprehensive 
examination if they hope to have 

The committee members on honors 
wo:k are: Miss Marks, chairman. Dr. 
Wallace, Mrs. Shupp, Miss Walker, 
Miss Piel, and Dr. Spencer. 

May 22, 1940 

Dr. Freeliof Speaks 
About Ambition 

"Until personal ambition is restor- 
ed, the world will continue to dis- 
integrate," said Dr. Solomon B. 
Freehof in his talk in chapel. May 13. 
Dr. Freehof, who is Rabbi of the 
Rodet Shalom Synagogiie, Pitts- 
burgh, spoke on the subject, "Why 
Be Ambitious?" 

The lack of ambition in the youth 
of today is a fact deplored and lec- 
tured on by many persons. Dr. Free- 
hof said that, though Ihey are right 
to a certain degree, the charge is un- 
fair. In the last two generations 
ambition was to be expected because 
of the conditions existmg. At thai 
time, great inventions were being 
made and industry was expanding 
rapidly: today, things are more at 
a standstill. Success stories are no 
longer being written because there is 
little outstanding person^.l success. 

The reason for this lack of ambi- 
tion, according to Dr. Freehof is: 
the great rise in national ambition, 
which dwarfs the individual to a 
mere molecule in the conquering 
mass, and the change in the pliil- 
osophy of the times. In the past 
generations, the leading philosophies 
have followed Judaism and Chris- 
tianity both of which exalt the in- 
dividual. Today the philosophy is 
of the masses. 

If individual ambition is restored 
it will have to start with the 
foundations. People will again have 
to be taught self-importance. There 
is a chance for this, said Dr. Free- 
hof, but it will be a difficult task. 
It is much easier to despair and fol- 
low the Marxist type of life t'lan to 
face the difficulties of individual- 

In conclusion Dr. Freehof said 
that there is hope in the fact that 
persons, although they are facing 
difficult times, will believe that they 
are not facing the most difficult 


"The Flower Stylists In 



MOntrose 4800 
6026 Center Avenue East End 


Formal Dances Feature 
Spring Decorations 

The sophomore-freshman dance 
was held in the chapel from 9 to 
12 on Saturday evening. May 18. 
Julia Wheldon, chairman, Alice Mc- 
Kain, Aileen Chapman. Marjorie 
Higgins, June Hunker, and Barbara 
Heinz formed the committee for the 
dance. In the receiving line were 
Dr. and Mrs. Spencer, Dr. Butler, 
sophomore advisor, and Mrs. Doutt. 
freshman advisor. 

James Metzger and his orchestra 
played for the dance. The chapel 
was decorated as a grape arbor with 
a white trellis, purple grapes, and 

The junior-senior spring formal 
was held in Woodland Hall on the 
same evening. The committee for 
this dance was Dorothy Oliver, 
chairman, Jean McGowan, Jane 
Pierce, Natalie Lambing, and Char- 
lotte Wolf. In the receiving line 
were Miss Marks. Miss Robb, Miss 
Shields, and Dorothy Oliver. 

Eddie Weitz and his orcliestra 
played for the dance, and lilacs were 
used as decorations. 

The juniors and seniors had as 
their guests at the dance Miss 
Campbell, Mr. and Mrs. Shupp, Dr. 
Evans. Miss Walker, and Dr. and 
Mis. Doxsee. 

Dr. Spencer Presides 
At Annual Banquet 

Dr. Herbert Spencer will preside 
at the annual banquet of the John 
Brashear Club which will be held 
June 20, at the William Penn Hotel. 
Dr. Fisher of the Hayden Planetar- 
ium, will be the principal speaker. 

The dinner, which is given each 
year, is sponsored by the Frick Com.- 
inission of which Dr. Spencer is a 
member. At this time scholarships 
valued at S50.000 will be awarded 
to public school teachers in the city 
of Pittsburgh by the Frick Commis- 

'"Uncle John" Brashear for whoin 
the John Brashear Club has been 
named, was an astronomer and man- 
ufacturer of scientific instruments. 
He was a native of Pittsburgh and 
jor two years was director of the Al- 
legheny Observatory. He also acted 
as chancellor of the Western Uni- 
versity of Pennsylvania. 

Page Seven 

Faculty Members 
Plan Vacations 

With the approach of summer, the 
air is filled with vacation plans. 
Students and faculty alike are mak- 
ing plans for the three months be- 
fore the opening of school next Sep- 

Miss Marjorie Chubb will prob- 
ably consider this one of the most 
eventful summers of her life. On 
July 1, she will be married to John 
Alden Randall, and then will journey 
to Pasedena, California, where she 
will live. 

Mrs. Shupp plans to spend the 
summer at the family cabin in 
Maine, where she will spend her 
time fishing, boating, swimming and 

Miss Held will attend the music 
festival held in the Berkshires. She 
expects to spend the rest of her va- 
cation studying. 

Mrs. Harris will accompany her 
husband to Northwestern University 
where he will teach an extension 
course and she will study. After the 
close of school they plan to make a 
motor trip through the West. 

Another western traveller will be 
Miss Dysart who plans first to visit 
her liome in Nebraska, and then to 
spend the rest of the summer on an 
island in Puget Sound. 

Dr. Butler says that this summer 
she expects to "keep the home fires 
burning" which, when translated, 
means "just rest." 

Library Gets Netv Books 
From Buhl Foundation 

The Buhl Foundation has recently 
presented to our library a gift of 
books including. Pioneer Life in 
Western Pennsylvania and P. West's 
Historical Works. 

Pioneer Life in Western Pennsyl- 
vania was written by J. E. Wright 
and Doris S. Corbett under the di- 
rection of the Western Pennsylvania 
Historical Survey, sponsored jointly 
by the Buhl Foundation, the His- 
torical Society of Western Pennsyl- 
\-ania, and the University of Pitts- 
burgh. The book tells simply of the 
work and play of the frontier fam- 
ily, their health, religion, clothing, 
customs, their hopes and ambitions. 
This book is one of the Western 
Pennsylvania series being published 
by the University of Pittsburgh. 

Page Eight 


May 22. 1940 


By Healey and Higgins 

Well, nnre again tlie blue books loom . . . the air is 
damp with Senior tears, The 'possum sleeps quite undis- 
turbed, amidst regrets and hopes and fears. We note the 
handsome, dark and tall . . . this one last time until next 
fall. But m.eanwhile we hope that all of youse, will spend 
the summer making news Which We Can Print! 

Well, ofl-campus gleanings fill the news this time, with 
Ethel Herrod, Ellen Copeland, Margie Graham, Louise 
Caldwell and Mary Kinter back from Princeton, Mary 
Rope back from Amherst and half the school back from 
W&J. Among those prom-ing with the Gamboliers were 
Margie Longwell, Peggy Matheny, Amy McKay, Jean 
Burchinal, Betty Jane Watters, Jean Faris, Mary Ellen 
Ostergard, Louise Lean and so on into more column space 
than we have. Closer to home, the Pitt and Tech Car- 
nivals were well supported, with Tech and Mr. Miller a 
little ahead of the Panthers. Among those hearing Glen 
were Audrey Horton, Betty Crawford, Elaine Fitzwilson, 
Jean Cate, Peggy Dunseath, Peggy Christy, Jean McGowan 
and more and more and more. Pitt found Mary Singer, 
Pat Brennan, Carol Bostwick, and Jean Burry among 
those heaving baseballs at the darky. 

But the girls aren't the only ones who go away, and 
some of the lonely ones are Jane McClung, with a man 
in Panama, Jean Gate's Tony in Toledo, Peggy Dunseath's 
man transferred to Philly, and Grace Mary Horton's man 
possibly transferred to Shanghai, along with Mary Lou 
Henry's marine. Those whose men conspicuously main- 
tain the status quo are Sally Thomas' Ron and Ruth Mary 
Arthur's "Doc." 

The weekly musical review shows are turning to the 
old favorites, witli Jean Miller singing "Rainbow 'Round 
My Shoulder," and Betty Bacon still holding out for "Oh 
Johnny, Oh!" "Anchors Aweigh" sounds good to Anna 
Betty Saylor and why not, with a name like that, and June 
week just over the horizon? Ruth Fife has joined Pat 
Kent in harmonizing "An Apple for the Teacher" and Jo 
Over still dines with "Billy." 

In passing, may we note a withdrawal from the P. P. U. 
in the persons of Ginnie Spear, v/ho returned T. J.'s pin, 
and Frances Johnson, who returned Lem's ditto, and the 
odds are up on how long they will be suspended. From 
the P. P. U. that is. Of course. And may we also note 
Knox, the lady-killer, dividing his time between "Biz" 
Ward and Marg. Orr. And also Jane Smith, sporting one 
of those finger rings. 

Seen at the University Club, one cast member who 
was drinking ginger ale to celebrate (don't ask what cast). 

Too bad we can't print the funniest story of the week, 
but for details see Ruth Strickland and ask for the Saga 
of the Purple Unmentionables. 

And that would seem to be that, until another season 
comes around. We'll meet you by the grandstand, any 
one you choose, and to all the names that will be There 
instead of Here, we wish you the best of luck, and we'll 
look for you in Patricia Pitt. 


By Betty Eastwood 

Where Art Thou? 

And to think that a couple of weeks ago we were all i 
talking about Bertrand Russell! This morning when 
someone asked us, "What has become of him?" we made 
answer, "We don't know." So we went to the library 
and perused the papers diligently. Finally we found 
him. Where were the headlines, where the long write- 
up with the many gory details? Gone — never to be re- 
vived it is safe to wager. Bertrand Russell does not rate 
an article all by himself in the papers today. He is sand- 
wiched in between five-cent fare and religious education 
in an account of a city council meeting ... an ignomin- 
ious position indeed. Such is fame, such glory. 
Just Like the Measles 

This is our last column for which our readers ai-e no 
doubt glad. It is strange that we should feel as if at the 
slightest pretext we would lapse into sentimentality. It's 
a dirty trick. All these years we have been counting the 
days till vacation, and till the next vacation, and till sum- 
mer, till Commencement. The more mathematically 
minded of our colleagues even counted hours. When the 
end approached we were going to be so glad. For months 
now we have talked about getting out of town. Our lan- 
guage has been both loud and strong, until now. 

May Day, hour writtens, Christmas pageants, seminar 
reports and eight-thirty classes have come and gone and 
we were prepared, now that not more than four term 
papers, to be done in six days, lie between us and the end, 
to unloose a tirade of scorn upon our Alma Mater and 
stalk away with our noses decidedly elevated above their 
normal position. It is a sad situation, but inevitable. We 
have caught "Senioritis" in its most malignant form. 

We looked around the other night, and thought. "Only 
a few more days." Then we thought it again. Then we 
gulped. For four years we have been engaged in a col- 
lective effort, friend by friend, pushing together. That is 
nearly ended now. Wherever we go from here we will 
have to go alone, each one of us on our own way. Per- 
haps we m.ay never meet these friends again. We will, no 
doubt, cry on Moving Up Day, like all the rest of the 
Seniors. But it still ain't fair, we maintain. 


It will seem queer after so many years and so many 
anxious days to see no longer the confidence-inspiring 
name of Webb Miller at the head of news articles. As 
European manager for the United Press, Mr Miller proved 
an almost superhuman success. Through knowledge of 
communication lines, and his own keen ability Mr. Miller 
supplied the United Press with scoop upon scoop, and kept 
the American public in touch with the jittery world. The 
blackout in London during which he died is felt today in 
America, for he was in large measure our eyes to see 
events in Europe. He was a light in the darkness, and 
now that light is gone. 

May 22, 1940 


Page Nine 


By Althea Lowe 

Spring is here, and so are exams, but we are still keep- 
ing us, and you, up on the goings on of the world which is 
around us. Right close to us is the hockey field, and so for 
a little relaxation between the Economics final and the 
English term paper, hop into a bathing suit and take your 
place in the sun. Sit and play bridge, or whizz off a set 
of tennis, and watch your troubles fade and your freckles 

Then when you're through with exams, go to the 
movies. Stage show season is over, and air cooling is in, 
and Vivien (Scarlett; Leigh is here with Robert Taylor in 
"Waterloo Bridge," one of the better romances of the 

Glenn Gray and his Casa Loma orchestra are filling the 
Stanley with sweet strains conducive to soothing weary 
souls, and if your soul ain't weary, there are more stren- 
uous amusements. "When the circus comes to town, all 
the clowns come tumbling down . . . Peanuts, Lemonade, 
Popcorn ..." Yes, circus days are here again, so step 
right up folks! The greatest show on earth! It's the huge 
Ringling Brothers and Bamum and Bailey circus, with 
new marvels and Gargantua. The dates are June third 
and fourth, and we advise you to take a day off and get a 
new polish on your sense of humor, new youth in your 
tired bones, new . . . anyway, don't miss the circus! 

If you want to dance, the Schenley is featuring Billy 
Hinds and his orchestra at the informal Saturday night 
dances, with Carol Mansfield doing the vocals. 

On Memorial Day the New Penn will hold its open- 
air opening, with Lee BaiTett's orchestra officiating. 

From New York's Waldorf Astoria comes Everett 
Hoagland and his band to take up residence at Bill 
Green's. Don Burke, one of the country's better vocalists, 
is the singer. 

And don't forget the Planetarium. A new program 
every week, entertaining and scientific, it is a "must see" 
for Pittsburghers. 

And right here on campus, comes beautiful Illumina- 
tion Night, honoring our seniors. And it will be well 
worth your time to remain for Commencement and hear 
Mary Ellen Chase deliver her address to the seniors. 

So . . . don't say there's nothing to do, 'cause you're 
booked up till . . . ? 

For extra-curricular outdoor spoi't, there is always 
Kennywood Park which offers stage acts, music, and lots 
of fun strolling hand in hand vidth no one to care if you 
don't look dignified eating spun sugar while riding the 
ferris wheel. We tried it once, and couldn't get it out of 
our hair for weeks. 

For your more serious moments, and if you are of stout 
courage to see all and know all, we recommend the 
NEWSREEL, a new theater at Palace and Diamond 
streets, which offers straight newsreel movies, and claims 
the attention of the international minded with the very 
latest war news from Europe. 

The Garden Market opens in Schenley Park today and 
will continue for three days. Here you may feast your 

(On the train.) 

"Oh, Brenda!" 

"Whadda ya want, Cobina?" 

"Brenda, ain't you heard? We're going to college." 

"College! Are thei-e any men?" 

"We've got an athletic scholarship to PCW. We're 
going to play fullback. We always did wanta meet some 
of them football men." 

"Men! Wow!" 

"I wonder what PCW means? Pennsylvania's Cutest 

"Oh, those things they turn nuts with." 

"I guess so. Anyway they want us to be there in time 
for the tennis tournament. We're gonna award the cup 
on Moving Up Day. I wonder who's gonna win it?" 

"I heard a rumor ..." 

"Cobina, do you remember that last roomer we had? 
He disappeared after that last date we had with him." 

"What did you expect? You were doin' fine til your 
false teeth fell out and bit him on the knee! Anyhow, 
this is another kind of a rumor." 

"A secret?" 

"Yeah, between you and me and the Arrow. They say 
the finals will be between Glady Patton and Julia Wells. 
At least that's what Yehudi says and he thinks maybe that 
Pat . . . well, we'll wait and see." 

"Cobina, did you see the mushball games?" 

"Don't be self-conscious, Brenda. Yeah. You was a 
scream when you took off your wooden leg to bat." 

"That was nothin. What about you usin your toupee 
for a catcher's mitt? You was on the winning team, 
wasn't ya? Your colors ,iust matched your new make- 
up. Red, wasn't it?" 

"Well, Brenda, we'd better be signing off now. We've 
gotta get our beauty sleep." 

"Yeah, I'm dead." 

"You don't need to admit it." 

"I was hoofing it all last week-end at the Tech Car- 
nival. Did you hear Glen Miller? Boy, they was in the 

"Yeah, and I heard that you was doin the Big Apple 
so hard that a worm popped out and yelled, 'I surrender'!" 

"Gee, he musta thought it was a Blitzkrieg. Well, 
goodnight, Cobina, and don't forget to put out your teeth 
for the porter to shine." 

"Goodnight, Brenda. Your hair looks lovely. No- 
body'd suspect it was part of an old bath mat." 

eyes on exhibits of what other people can do with flowers, 
and get a lift that may compensate for the be-draggled 
specimens that suffered from the vagaries of dormitory 

Oh, yes, we almost forgot. The Art Cinema offers the 
splendid musical film, "Life and Loves of Giuseppi Verdi," 
which all who love his music would be glad to see. 

Page Ten 


May 22, 1940 

SEEING THAT DEATH . . . by Rachd nn., '4c 

The man in the brown uniform 
stood beside the window, looldng out 
onto the wide street below him. It 
was a gray day. The clouds hung 
low over the square buildings of the 
city, and the rain poured in steady 
slanting streams across the sky. 
There was no wind to whip the red, 
white and black flags in front of the 
chancellery or to lash the rain-drops 
savagely against the window-pane. 
There was no movement at all — on- 
ly the sullen ceaselessness of the 

For a long time, the man watched 
the flags that hung, sodden, from the 
stiff line of poles along the treeless 
street, the sombre, quiet falling of 
the rain, the blurred outlines of the 
massive building across the Platz. 
He watched them, without seeing, 
without thinking. As he stood there, 
the grayness of the earth and sky 
seemed to fill his mind, permeating 
every comer of it, blotting out all 
worry and resolution and thought. 
Dimly, through the obscuring, envel- 
oping mist, he felt a nagging con- 
sciousness that he should be saying 
to himself, "Bad day for the boys at 
the front, but at least there's little 
danger of an air-attack with clouds 
like those." 

But the consciousness did not 
quite penetrate to the surlace of that 
dim mist that enwrapped him. and 
he did not say anything, did not 
thinlv anything, really. 

The fact was, he realized wearily, 
that to him the boys in the trendies 
were no longer glorious defenders 
of the fatherland. They were not 
even blond, blue-eyed Jungen believ- 
ing that they were dying for a sacred 
cause. They were only fools, dressed 
in field-gray motley, making the 
Fates laugh with their ridiculous 
crawlings. The people at home, too, 
and their silly "sacrifices," their 
service flags and useless knitting, 
were worthy of neither pity nor 
praise. So what did it matter to him 
that the soldiers would get a little 
wetted on patrol duty? Or what dif- 
ference did it make to him if a few 
imbecile civilians crowded into the 
railway station and got blow/n to bits 
when an enemy bomb hit its marlt? 
He did not despise the soldiers and 
the civilians; he did not pity nor 
hate nor admire them. They had just 
ceased to have any meaning for him 
at all. 

How shocked Father Matthew 

would be if he should hear him say 
that! The good, gentle old priest of 
the church in the village where the 
man in the brown uniform had 
grown up had used to teach the boys 
and girls more than their catechism. 
"We are all God's children," he 
often had said as he separated two 
small boys fighting in the school- 
grounds. "You must love one anoth- 
er; there is no reason for quarreling 
ever. When you know perfectly your 
enemy's ideas, you wiU find that they 
are not very different after ali from 
your own." 

The good Father! So many times 
he had seen him walking in the sun- 
light across the square, smiling at 
the old men sitting around the foun- 
tain and the women knitting on the 
door-sills and the solemn storks, red 
and white against the sharp blue sliy, 
building their nests in the chimneys 
for good luck. Father Matthew had 
loved everyone. He supposed he was 
dead now. 

Dead. Quiet at last, sleeping with- 
out dreams. There he would have 
peace secured; there no one could 
touch him. And still, the man was 
afraid of dying, too, afraid of the 
swift sting of a bullet in the back 
or the quick edge of the headsman's 
axe. He was not liked, he kneW. He 
was the least popular member of the 
ministry. He did not understand it, 
but he knew it. 

Through his subliminal musings 
cut the harsh click of leather heels 
falling against a marble floor. With- 
out so much as flicking an eyelid, 
the man in the brovim uniform snap- 
ped back into consciousness. Sud- 
denly, he noticed the steady, slog- 
ging push of the rain against the 
street and the heavy sombreness of 
the sky. 

"Rotten weather," he said, almost 
out loud. It was as if he must malie 
certain that his mind was still cap- 
able of perception, of even the most 
simple associations. Lately, he had 
found himself often in this strange 
and sweet half-dream, when he had 
thought without thinking, when he 
was lost in hardly-conscious memor- 
ies. Those insensible thoughts fright- 
ened him; he did not want to drag 
them to the surface. Besides, it was 
pleasant and refreshing — this twi- 
light, only-partly-realized reverie. 
But it was dangerous. Still, he was 
not sure he wanted to leave it. It 
would be like asking a man to get 

up from a comfortable cliair by the 
fire to investigate a noise in the 
darkness and chiU of the basement. 

Nonetheless, he had to get back, 
so he pressed his mind still further. 
Something had interrupted him — the 
sound of hard steps on the iiollow 
haU. Ah, yes, it would be Boehm, 
bringing in the military dispatches 
for yesterday. They must have his 
approval. Then, he would have to 
receive the foreign newspaper coi'- 
respondents to feed them their bi- 
weekly quota of lies. Once, he had 
hated the representatives of the dem- 
ocratic press and had thundered un- 
truths at them because he did not 
think that they were worthy of hear- 
ing the great tenets of his party. But 
now, for botli him and them the 
press conferences had turned into a 
sort of game, a very skillful, subtle 
game, in which he played to keep 
from telling as little truth as he could 
and in which they tried to worm out 
of him as much "inside informa- 
tion" as they could. It was a game 
which demanded great acuteness, and 
soon he would be too tired to win. 

As the door-knob clicked, the man 
in the brown uniform let the heavy 
dark curtain he had held aside fall 
slowly into black folds across the 
window. He turned back to his 
broad-topped desk, his shoulders set 
in a new^ square, his eyes stern. The 
door opened, and Boehm, a stocky, 
blond Bavarian, entered, carrying a 
dispatch case. He had an almost- 
childlike innocence in his blue eyes 
and sudden smile, and he walked 
proudly in his boots, like a little boy 
with new shoes. 

"Bad weather for soldiers, Dok- 
tor," he said. 

"Yes, filthy," replied the man, as 
if it really mattered. "Are these the 
military dispatches?" he asked, sit- 
ting down in the leather-covered 
chair. Boehm clicked his heels, snap- 
ped a salute and placed the official 
case on the desk. 

"Yes, Doktor," he answered, "but 
there are also a few items from the 
ministry of economics which they 
wish released." 

The man wondered with faint ir- 
ritation why his secretary always 
saluted him. He had no military 
rank. Probably, he decided, Boelim 
liked to play soldier, like all the 
other young boys. But he said only, 

"Very well. I'll ring for you when 
I've finished them." 

May 22, 1940 


Boehm saluted again and turned 
to go. At the door, he stopped, clear- 
ed his throat. 

"I beg your pardon, Doktor, but 
you haven't forgotten the press re- 

The man in the brown uniform 
let a paper slip from his fingers, and 
for a moment he lool^ed at it and 
did not say anything. Then he lifted 
his head sharply. 

"Certainly not." His voice was 
heavy in the little room. "Prepare the 
Bismarck Room tor it." Boehm look- 
ed like a school boy who was be- 
ing scolded for something he knew 
was the professor's fault. 

"Yes, Doktor. The conference is 
scheduled to begin in twenty min- 
utes, of course." 

"Of course," he replied, every 
nerve in his body taut. The thin 
fingers of his right hand removed 
his monocle, put it back, adjusted 
it. In his left hand he slowly 
crumpled one of the dispatches. He 
wished fiercely that Boehm would 
leave and then realized that he had 
not dismissed him. 

"That will be all, Boehm," he said 
finally and bent over the papers 
again. The door shut behind his sec- 
retary, and the sound of his foot- 
steps followed him across the marble 

The man in the brown uniform 
worked on for several minutes, alone 
in the ofRce. Quickly, he scanned the 
contents of each dispatch, then threw 
it on one pile or another. When he 
had finished, he gathered up most of 
the papers and laid them in the dis- 
patch case. The others, he folded to- 
gether and placed on the square 
bronze ash-tray which formed a part 
of his desk set. Leaning forward, he 
struck a match and lighted one 
corner of the paper. The fire sucked 
its silent way toward the center of 
the square, and tiny flames made 
bright reflections on the shining desk 

He leaned against the high back of 
the leather chair and watched the 
small flre. There had been a few of 
the news items which he had not 
thought advisable to release. They 
hadn't been really serious — just a 
notice from the Admirality that two 
U-boats had been destroyed in a 
raid on the Firth of Clyde, three or 
four dispatches from the armies re- 
porting "slight advances of the en- 
emy in local sectors" or "positions re- 
taken with rather heavy losses," and 
a notice from the ministry of eco- 
nomics that stricter rationing of eggs 
and bacon would soon go into effect. 

Still, even though they were rela- 
tively unimportant, there was no 
good in giving the people cause for 
complaint and despair. There were 
enough causes, already, and he knew 
it. Even people who had never had 
very much to eat would ask how the 
government expected them to live 
and fight and worl-c on the rations 
they were permitted. Even mothers 
who had cried with pride when their 
boys had put on the brown uni- 
forms of the StoiTn Troopers would 
weep with bitterness when their sons 
were killed in the sparse woods of 
the Western Front. The people were 
tired of heroics; they had been noble 
so long. 

The small fire in the ash-tray had 
burned out, and the man in the 
brown uniform bent forward to 
crumble the black ash to dust. It was 
his work to keep the citizens content, 
to quiet alarms, praise sacriflces, 
glorify hunger and death. Only this 
morning at the cabinet meeting, The 
Leader had said to him, "Doktor, 
you must keep up the public morale. 
We cannot expect our armies to win 
if the civilians do not believe in vic- 

He had had to tighten his fingers 
painfully on the edges of the portfolio 
which lay across his knees, then, to 
keep from beating his fists on the 
table and shouting, "Good God! the 
civilians are tired of talk of victory 
and believing in things and the des- 
tiny of the fatherland. All they want 
— all any of us wants — is peace and 
a chance to live without fear." But 
he had said nothing except, "I shall 
do my best, mein Fuhrer," his 
shoulders stiff against tlie straight 
hard back of the chair. 

Now, he leaned over his desk, 
poking idly at the pulverized ash of 
the dispatches with a bronze letter- 
opener. He had been right in what 
he had wanted to say, he thought. 
The people were no longer so eager 
to snatch at the golden words he of- 
fered them as they had been in the 
beginning. Their eyes read the lines 
of letters, but there was no light in 
them. What would they say if they 
could know what the cabinet had 
learned at its meeting in the morn- 

"Gentlemen," the minister of eco- 
nomics had said solemnly; "I regret 
to inform you that it will be only a 
matter of a few days until our sup- 
plies from Scandinavia and Russia 
will be largely cut off by sea. The 
enemy has penetrated into the Baltic 
and has mined it extensively. We 
have lost several merchantmen and 

Page Eleven 

minesweepers and two submarines in 
attempts to break the blockade. The 
Bay of Helgoland also, as you al- 
ready know, is almost useless to us. 
This means that unless some means 
can be found to destroy the blockade 
and clear the harbors, we will be 
forced to cut dairy rationing almost 
to nothing, and military supplies 
from the Soviet Union will necessar- 
ily be routed by land or through the 
Mediterranean and Italy — both long- 
er routes than by the Baltic." After 
the economics minister had finished 
his report, he had sat down slowly 
and quietly. His fingers were trembl- 
ing, though, and he was pale. 

The man in the brown uniform had 
taken no part in the discussion that 
followed the report. He had watched 
the minister closely, fascinated with 
the fear he found in his eyes and his 
shaking hands. He too was afraid, he 
knew, afraid of the scorn of The 
Leader and the hatred of the people, 
frightened, like the economics min- 
ister, not knowing where this Jug- 
gernaut they had helped to create 
would, caiTy them. 

Suddenly, the man threw the let- 
ter-knife onto the desk-top. It rang 
sharply in the silent room. For a 
moment, he listened to the metallic 
vibrations, then dropped liis head iii- 
to his hands. 

He was so tired. He could not go 
on any longer, sparring with the 
foreign correspondents and fighting 
with empty words the growing 
awareness in the people. There was 
no buoyancy in him any more, none 
of the springing vitality and sharp 
eagerness which had advanced him 
thus far in the Party. There was no 
emotion at aU, and no thought — only 
numbness and a weak need for tears. 

But he did not cry. He only laid 
his head in his arms on the desk 
and allowed the sweet and shadowy 
thoughts to possess him. He could 
not continue in the ministry of infor- 
mation, they told him. And he could 
not resign. He had already tried to, 
but The Leader had pled with him 
not to give the citizens cause for un- 
due alarm and the enemy reason to 
believe there was dissension in the 
high circles. That argument had mat- 
tered to him then. It did not mat- 
ter now. Nothing mattered except 
quietness and inconspicuousness and 

He would not mind even sleeping 
forever. He had thought of death 
often. It held no terrors for him. This 
existence that shut him within four 
short walls, that hung his only win- 
dow with black, impenetrable cur- 

Page Twelve 


May 22, 1940 

tains and stationed two soldiers al- 
ways in the hall outside his door — 
this existence was lull of horrors. He 
would tolerate it no longer; even if 
death was the alternative, he would 
escape it. Someone else could tell 
the people in two or three weeks 
that they would have even less to 
eat, that the enemy had partially 
strangled the fatherland. He would 
not have to do that. 

All at once, the man in the brown 
uniform sat up. One clear, light 
thought had stabbed across his dim 
reverie like a searchlight across a 
night sky. He would tell the peo- 
ple of the success of the blockade 
which he had only recently brand- 
ed a failure. He would tell them 
that soon they would be forced to 
sacrifice even more than they had 
already. He would release it to the 
papers too soon — with his own sig- 
nature they would not hesitate to 
print it. The foreign press would 
copy it with glee, and The Leader, 
who had commanded him to keep up 
the public morale, would look into 
the hostile eyes of his people and 
would order the execution of his 
minister of information. 

It would be a quiet, a very quiet, 
execution, some cold dawn before 
anyone save the headsman and his 
victim and his guards had arisen. Or 
perhaps it might come some night — 
tonight, tomorrow — as he sat in his 
study at home. They would try to 
keep it from the foreign newspaper- 
men and from the people, but they 
would find out. It would not hurt 
him then. He would not have to in- 
vent excuses at press conferences or 
tell the people that rumors of the 
execution were false. 

The man in the brown uniform 
snapped open a drawer and took 
out an official news blank. Strange, 
all the tiredness had flowed from 
him. He felt young, adventurous, as 
he had once in the last war when 
he had killed a man who had wanted 
to kill him. Swiftly, he wrote the 
news release, marked it "Important" 
and signed it with his own initials. 
After he had blotted it carefully, he 
slipped it into the middle of the pile 
of dispatches and closed the case. 
Without waiting, he pushed the but- 
ton which would call Boehm. 

He shoved back the heavy chair 
and walked the few steps across the 
room to the window. The door 
opened, and his secretary entered, 
saluted. The man in the brown uni- 
form turned and said, 

"The dispatches are ready for the 
stamp, Boehm. Get them out in time 

for the alternoon papers." He was 
amazed at the energy and almost- 
gaiety of his voice. 

"Yes, Doktor," Boehm responded, 
taking up the dispatch case. "The 
newspapermen are arriving, sir." 

"Ah, yes," he said, "let me know 
when they're all here." His secre- 
tary nodded and started for the door. 

The man's voice stopped him. He 
was almost laughing. "Oh, and 
Boehm — order several bottles of 
champagne. We'll show them we're 
not licked, eh?" Boehm snapped his 
heels, bowed and shut the door be- 
hind him. 

Celebrate my death, the man 
thought — my release into death. The 
newspapermen would write vei-y 
good stories about the party the 
Reichminister had given them only a 
few days before his execution. Per- 
haps the S.S. guards would burst 
into the conference to seize him. That 
would make an even better story. 
Maybe he would tell the foreign 
journalists of the success of the 
blockade. They would enjoy that, too, 
and with it in the party papers they 
would be sure to be allowed to cable 
the news abroad. 

He pushed the dark curtains back 
and looked down into the empty 
square. It was still raining, and the 
red, white and black of the flags 
along the curb was almost erased in 
the wet grayness. He liked to see 
them hanging like that, colorless and 
limp and defeated. That was the 
way he had been, but now that he 
had sent his last dispatch, he felt 
free and happy and energetic. 

There was a possibility, of course, 
he thought, that they would not kill 
him because of the uproar it would 
raise in the democratic press if the 
minister of information were exe- 
cuted. He might be excused on the 
grounds of ill-health and be sent in- 
to exile in Switzerland or Norway 
or somewhere. That would be good. 
He would like that, especially if he 
could find a village like the one in 
which he had grown up, with a 
bright sky and white and pink houses 
with peaked, gingerbread eaves and 
a little green park with a statue in 
the middle of town, and if he could 
have a house by himself with all his 
books, and sunlight across the door- 
sill. Perhaps he would begin to write 
poetry again. He had dreamed in his 
university days of becoming the 
modem Goethe, but the war and the 
Party had changed that. 

It really made no difference, 
though, whether he died or was ex- 
iled. Either way he would be away 

from this room with only a desk and 
a chair, a window and a pictui-e of 
The Leader, and two soldiers in the 
hall outside. 

Across the marble floor came the 
sound of footsteps, then the click of 
his door-knob. That would be 
Boehm, he thought, as he turned 
away from the window. Poor Boehm! 
He would be shocked to hear of the 
Doktor's negligence, and he would 
upbraid himself for not noticing it. 
But Boehm would not question the 
dispatch; he worshipped his Doktor. 
Boehm was really the only person in 
the world he could trust, the man 
said to himself. Good Boehm! He 
would try to make a little provision 
for him. 

His secretary opened the door and 
shut it quietly behind him. For a mo- 
ment, he stood against it, looking 
at the man silhouetted against the 
dull sky. It is possible, the man ask- 
ed, that the guards have already 
come and that Boehm has begged to 
be allowed to tell me? Still, they 
could not have heard so soon unless 
Boehm himself had called them. But 
he would not do that; he is my 
friend; he would not examine the 

The two men, the younger and the 
older, stood for a long moment, 
watching each other. Both seemed 
speechless, and the silence hung 
heavy between them. Finally, Boehm 
straightened his shoulders and drew 
his heels dully together. 

"The foreign journalists are 
ready for you, Doktor," he said, and 
his voice broke on the last word. He 
stood still for a minute longer, his 
round, young face working like a lit- 
tle boy's who is trying to keep from 
crying. Then, with a rush across the 
small room, he fell on his knees in 
front of the man. 

"Oh, Doktor, forgive me, forgive 
me, but I — " his throat was filled 
with sobs. 

"It's all right, boy," murmured the 
older man and leaned over to brush 
the young secretary's blond hair 
Irom his face. "It's all right." 

Boehm did not look up at the man, 
but continued, weeping, "Forgive me, 
mein Herr, but that dispatch — that 
dispatch about the blockade — " He 
broke off and clutched the edge of 
the man's tunic. "Don't make me 
send it; please don't make me send 
it. It will kill you. It shouldn't be 
released for several weeks, I know 
that. They will kill you if you let it 
go. Say I may destroy it. Oh, say I 
may bum it!" 

The man said nothing. Boehm 

May 22, 1940 


Page Thirteen 

went on, holding his hands towards 
the Delator with the dispatch 
cioimbled in his fingers. 

"You must have made a mistal-ic, 
Doktor. You are tired. You need a 
rest, or else you would not have done 
this thing. Please tell me to burn 
it. It will kill you if you don't, and 
it will kill me, too." He stopped, 
racked with sobs. 

The man in tlie brown uniform 
stared dully at the piece of paper 
between his secretary's twisted fing- 

"Oh, you, too, eh?" he said finally 
and quietly, looking at the bent head 
and shal^ing slioulders of the young 
boy. Then, savagely — 

"You, too? ' He ripped apart the 
boy's fingers, snatched the paper. 

"Here," he said, and he tore the 
dispatch into bits, fiercely, wildly. 
"Here is your miserable life." He 
flung the pieces against his secre- 
tary's head and started toward the 

"Get out of my way," he ordered, 
his voice hard in the dimness of the 
little office. He shoved the boy aside 
with his foot, and he fell heavily, 
still sobbing, to one side. 

The man in the brown uniform 
jerked down his tunic, sti'ode across 
the room. He threw open the door. 
It banged against the wall. The heels 
of his boots struck sliarply against 
the hollow floor as he walked across 
the marble hall. 

The Woman of the Hour 


By Helen Hecht, '40 

Do you remember liours that we 

Made shining by our liearts' united 

Made breathless, for we Ivnew that 

they were lent, 
Those jewelled moments time could 

not repeat? 
Can you remember tips of scarlet 

And crack of smoky wood upon the 

And hurried drops upon our window 

The solitary owl who cried alone? 
Do ycu remember Irost on curled 

And dusk, like soft grey doves' wings 

brushing near, 
The magic music silvered silence 

weaves — 
Breath of infinity we used to hear? 
This is my memory, cherished as the 

Of all life ofifers, sweeter than the 


Editor's Note — 

Last month. The Arrow printed an 
article called "The Man of the Hour." 
Meant as a tribute to our brothers 
at W & J, it was received as an in- 
sult by the gentlemen at Washington. 
Herewith is presented their answer. 

Dear Author of "The Man of the 

It has been rumored that you em- 
bittered females from PCW were 
somewhat rocl'ced by the unpredict- 
able men from Washington & Jeffer- 
son at tlie annual Quadrille. Includ- 
ed in your denunciation of this par- 
ticulai species was tlie familiar old 
maid cry of being left at home with 
your Ivnitting. No wonder some of 
you have the old maid complex if the 
raking you gave us is but a typical 
college custom of yours. 

Now we all 1-mow that Jay gentle- 
men lil^e their beverages with the 
distinguishing white collar, that we 
are of the old school more than in 
name only, that we sometimes obey 
the impulse to say Hi yali! babe, tliat 
our dances at times are nothing more 
than squizz affairs, but for the sake 
of our dear old mothers do not cast 
a plague on our womanless campus. 
'Tis seldom that we are able to lure 
unsuspecting ladies on our campus, 
so please don't make it more diffi- 
cult — our adm'nistration can't go on 
' orever playing Daddy by providing 
us with the "proper partners.' So our 
slogan becomes, "Save our rep." 

Wlrere we actually disagree witli 
you sanctimonious gals is the ap- 
proach which certain pious little 
prigs assume. Are we so tawdry and 
so low, and you so lioly and so dear, 
that you, witli clear conscience, may 
tear us and our quaint customs to 
shreds? We stand up and defend 
our malt-filled evenings, our crowd- 
ed but enjoyable dances, and our 
generous distribution of pins. Why 
make only one girl happy? While life 
is with us, men from W&J will re\'el 
and be joyous, joining in the rollick- 
ing cliorus with three cheers for the 
Red and Black. 

And now for file benefit of the Jay 
men who peruse this dribbling, I 
wish to quote a Biblical proverb 
dressed in the language of the day. 
"Fellow, cast out the cinder that is 
in your own eye, before you take 
a handkerchief and attempt to brush 
out the cinder from the eye of yon 
babe." Being men, we are human. 

Being human malves us subject to 
failings. But despite the many cin- 
ders lodged in our eyes let us not 
become blind to a rare virtue — ap- 
preciation. So despite time, circum- 
stance or occasion, continue to up- 
hold our custom, of appreciating to 
the fullest e.xtent. If the fates should 
so decree that you should be one of 
the fortunate ones to be honored by 
an inx'itation to P. C. Wups have a 
grand time, and appreciate the Cares 
of your Hostess who made possible 
your pleasant evening. And if any 
of us yellow-sheet reporters come 
in search of meowish news "feed us 
to the birds." 

Speaking of the malt industi-y, 
grog hour has arrived and it's time 
for the skipper to steer this "what 
have you"' into port. While I bury 
my nose into that frothy stuff, you 
Pavlovas might take up a Scotch, 
push back your dining room tables 
and dance the stately Quadrille. 

Next time I write, may my letter 
be filled with congratulations rath- 
er than left-handed cracks. May I, 
and with no stretch of the imagina- 
tion, write not P.C.W. but P.C.L. 
(Pennsylvania College for Ladies). 


Lullaby To a Sleepy 

The oppossum as you know 
Is a slumberous little beast 
He requires his rest and so. 
He sleeps sixteen hours at least. 
And so, though most oppossi 
Have no trouble at all 
The one who has insomnia 
Is a miserable animal. 

Ho Hum, Hum Ho, 

I wish I could sleep, he said, he said. 

The poor little possum 

He lay and he toss'im 

Whenever he went to bed. 


wish to thank 

the members of the 


for their fine work 

during the year of 


Page Fourteen 


May 22, 1940 

Loved I Not Honor MOrO . . . by Jo Anne Healey, ^41 

The girl regained consciousness 
slowly. She did not move nor open 
her eyes, but flooding up witliin her 
came the awareness that she still 
lived. The knowledge crystallized 
into a series of words flashing across 
her mind's eye so clearly that she 
could hear the inflection of them as 
though they were spoken. Well, the 
words said, so you're still alive. 

And without her being aware of it, 
the girl's lips moved in an answering 
"So what?" She was too tired to 
care that she still lived, or even to 
remember how desperately sure she 
had been that she would not live. 
She could only lie, watching the 
word-image; as they flashed across 
her closed eyes, and in a little while 
the words were gone, and she was 

But the sleep was different from 
tlie unconsciousness — or from the few 
conscious moments before the sleep. 
Her mind seemed to lose its central- 
ity, and little pieces of it went into 
the difiierent parts of her body — to 
her finger tips loosely curled under 
the hospital sheet — to her feet, raised 
a little at the foot of the bed. And 
so it was not she — not all of her that 
knew when the doctor entered the 
room, but the tingling nerves at her 
wrist knew when he felt for her 
pulse, and each part of her knev/ the 
nurse who moved her body slightly 
on the narrow bed. 

There was a coolness across her 
legs as the sheet was lifted, and then 
the pain came again, burning up from 
her knees into her thighs, and tire 
searing pain; and the sleep was gone 
as she muttered over and over again 
"Mary, Mother of Jesus," until the 
whole room was filled with the dron- 
ing sound of it. And then the pain 
was beneath her, and she was floating 
high above it out into a sunlit valley. 
Up and UD she went, until she could 
get no higher, because a voice was 
weighing on her; pulling her down 
and back to the pain until she was 
smothered in it, and moaning a little, 
she opened her eyes. 

For a moment the room was far 
away, and she was looking into it. 
Then gradually it settled around her 
and the woman who was sitting by 
the bed, talking to the nurse. The 
girl knew that the woman was talk- 
ing, because she could see her lips 
move, and hear a voice. But the 
voice and the lips brought no mean- 
ins to the girl until the woman turned 
and smiled at her. Then like a film 

suddenly synchronized with a sound 
machine the voice and the woman 
merged for the girl as the woman 
spoke to her. 

"Ah, my dear," the woman said. 
"So you're awake?" 

"Yes," the girl answered, and add- 
ed from force of habit, "ma'am." She 
did not turn her head, but watched 
through half-shut eyes the stout fig- 
ure of the matron from the Home. 
She noted with contempt the dowdi- 
ness of her too-tight black dress, and 
the grey untidy bun of her hair 
pushed back under the ugly felt hat. 
It was strange, the girl thought, how 
much difference clothes make in the 
relationship of one woman to another. 
Once she had been dependant on Miss 
McDonough — but not this one, this 
woman by the bed. The other Miss 
McDonough, the one who presided 
over the Home was crisp white au- 
thority. This Miss McDonough was 
a stranger, to be pitied for her shabby 
dress and bursting seams . 

The nurse came to the bed, and for 
a moment the girl thought her to be 
the other Miss McDonough, th'e real 
one — the white one. But then she 
saw that the nurse was too pretty to 
be another Miss McDonough. Too 
pretty, and too slender. Jealously the 
girl watched the nurse as she moved 
easily in the small room. She saw 
with a dim kind of hatred the firm 
lines of the nurse's body under the 
white uniform; the stiffness of the 
tailored front half-masking the curve 
of her bosom, and the neat tight line 
of her skirt across her hips. Invol- 
untarily the girl moved her own 
body, and suddenly through the re- 
sultant pain she was aware of the 
liglitness of it. 

"Miss McDonough!" 

The nurse was startled by the 
urgency of the girl's whisper. 

"Yes Helen? What is it?" 

The girl struggled to raise herself 
on the bed, and instantly the nurse 
was at her side. 

"Here, here. This won't do — it 
won't do at all!" 

The girl allowed herself to be 
pushed back onto the pillow, but her 
eves did not leave the matron's face. 
"Miss McDonoufh! It's gone. I've 
had the baby! How long . . . ?" 

Across the bed the matron and the 
nurse exchanged glances. The nurse 
turned to the door. 

"If you'll sit with her a minute, I'll 
get the medicine," she said. 

The matron nodded, and inched her 

low chair toward the bed. 

"You've been very ill, my dear, for 
almost a week now. That's why 
you're in a private room — away from 
the other girls." 

She hesitated a moment, and then 
went on in her brisk professional 
voice. "Dora had her baby yester- 
day. A boy it was. And Emmy is 
still waiting ..." 

The girl on the bed cut across the 
matron's voice. 

"And mine? My baby? I've had 
it haven't I? It's gone?" 

The matron frowned a little at 
being interrupted, and then realizing 
what she had to say, the frown deep- 
ened momentarily and was gone. 

"Helen — you've had a hard time of 
it. For a while we were afraid — but 
you're going to be all right now. You 
must be thankful for that. But you 
must remember, a thing is never so 
bad that it couldn't have been worse." 

She stopped, and waited for some 
outburst from the girl on the bed. 
But the girl was lying quietly, her 
eyes closed, and her face sharp and a 
little grey against the startling white- 
ness of the pillow. 

The matron rose abruptly and 
started for the door. On the way she 
dropped the pink Kleenex she had 
carried in expectation of the girl's 
crying. At the door she met the in- 
coming nurse. "I told her," Miss Mc- 
Donough said, "but I don't know 
whether or not she realized what I 
said. She's asleep now." She left 
the room, her footsteps echoing firmly 
in the tiled corridor. The nurse drew 
the covers closer around the girl and 
lifted the window. Then she too left 
the room, but her rubber heels made 
no sound of her going. 

The girl, left alone in the quiet 
room, was not asleep. She held her 
body still against the pain, but with- 
in the rigid bounds of her flesh there 
surged a fierce, exultant Joy — riding 
with the blood from her pounding 
heart until she could feel the warmth 
of it in every finger tip. And un- 
derneath her eyelids spun words that 
did not reach her lips. 

"So it's over," she thought. "Thank 
God it's over. Over for almost a 
week, and they didn't tell me. God, 
how I grudge them each hour that 
they didn't tell me!" The surging 
tide within her slowed a little, and 
under the covers her clenched hands 
relaxed. The words no longer rode 
across her eyeballs, but came norm- 
ally to her lips, which moved a little. 

May 22, 1940 


Page Fifteen 

accompanying her thought. After a 
while hei- eyes opened and fixed on a 
spot on the grey floor. And then she 
was laughing — silently because of the 
pain. For there on the floor, briglit 
against tlie dullness of it, was the 
pinl-i Kleenex. And the giii knew 
what it had been for. When she was 
calm again, she closed her eyes, and 
in her mind the pink Kleenex turned 
into Miss McDonougli, sitting by the 

"You must remember," she had 
said, "a thing is never so bad that it 
couldn't have been worse." 

"Worse?" The girl shouted it to 
herself. Oh yes, it could have been 
worse! Suppose the baby had lived? 
Fear rose within her, but she quelled 
it. remembering the words of the ma- 
tron. "The baby died a few liours 
after it was born." The girl laughed 
to herself, remembering the Kleenex. 
It was too bad, slie thought, that she 
couldn't liave cried just a little for 
Miss McDonough. Miss McDonough, 
with her maxims, and her queer hats 
— obviously re-made, with the old 
seams showing beside tlie new ones. 
And yet. the girl admitted, she liked 
Miss McDonough. 

She remembered the first time she 
had met the matron. It was when 
she came up before the Board of Ad- 
mittance. Tlie girl stiffened uncon- 
sciously, remembering hojv she had 
walked into the room, hating the wo- 
men who watched her come: the brisk 
society matrons and the professional 
women with pencils in their hands. 
They had stared at her, some with 
open curiosity, others with an indif- 
ference that was like a cold glass of 
water across her heart. All but Miss 
McDonough. The girl relaxed, re- 
membering how the matron had 
tucked back a strand of the straggling 
grey hair that kept her from achiev- 
ing complete neatness even in the 
starched perfection of a nurse's uni- 
form — and slie liad smiled at the girl. 
The others had smiled too, but their 
smiles had put a barrier between 
them and the girl, and she had been 
afraid. She tensed again, remem- 
bering tliat fear, and the pain jumped 
at her. causing her to cry out sliarply. 

The nurse came into the room 
again, and the girl watched her with 
wide eves from which the pupils 
seemed to liave dissolved. The nurse 
felt for her pulse, frowning as she 
noted the rigidness of her arm. She 
left the room, and when she returned 
she was carrying a basin and a hypo- 
dermic needle. Carefully she sponged 
the gii'l's arm and then drove the 
silver needle deep into the soft flesh. 
The girl's eyes went from the nurse's 

face to the needle and then back to 
the nurse's face again. Her teeth 
were on edge, and hot tears welled to 
her eyes, blurring the image of the 
pretty nurse. And then, strangely, it 
wasn't the nurse at all, but Miss Mc- 
Donough standing before lier. But 
Miss McDonough's face was blurring 
before the girl's eyes, and instead it 
v,-as her grandmother, in Miss Mc- 
Donough's uniform. And her grand- 
mother was calling her; telling her it 
was time to get up. "Helen! Helen! 
It's time you were up. Hurry now, 
so's we won't be late for church." 
But the girl didn't move. Tliis was a 
game she played every Sunday with 
her grandmother, to see how long 
slie could postpone tlie getting-up 
time, this pretending to be asleep 
until her grandmother would call 
again, and yet again. Her grand- 
mother was downstairs in the kitchen. 
The girl could see lier clearly, putting 
the new-raised bread in the quick- 
oven over the fire, her black dress 
rustling as she moved. The warm 
smell of the bread came to the girl's 
nostrils, and she could hear her father 
talking. For some reason, she could 
not make out the words, but his deep 
voice was pleasant in the kitchen, and 
it belonged, somehow, like the softer 
scund of the tea-kettle. 

"Don't call your father Pop." That 
was her gi-andmother's voice "It's a 
lieathen term. And we ain't heathen 
yet. though we will be if he keeps 
tryin' to ape his betters. First it's 
an automobile, and then a pianny 
and mebbe one o' these here radios 
to be clutterin' up my kitchen vjith 
wire. What's he need with music's 
what I'd like to know, nor you either. 
Almost a woman grown, and we pay- 
in' that Lovell woman to show you 
how to fiddle on a pianny." 

Pop. He was a handsome man, tlie 
girl thought, seeing the leanness of 
him, bronzed too, from the heat of the 
mill, and heavily muscled with long 
hours of rolling half-liquid steel. And 
there was a twinkle in his eye that 
matched the lightness of his voice as 
he answered her grandmother. "Now 
Mother, let the child be. Why 
shouldn't she learn the piano? It 
won't hurt her none and we can af- 
ford it. I'm putting money in the 
bank ain't I? I want my girl to be a 
real lady, and by lieck, she will be. 
Besides, don't the Book say not to lay 
up treasures here on earth, but put 
them off till Heaven?" 

Heaven. Heaven and her knees 
aching on the hard footboard in the 
church. Heaven and the slow chant- 
ing of the mass. She raised her eyes 
to the high rose-window above the 

altar. Its colors were dulled now, 
but soon she knew, the early morning 
sunlight would touch the glass, stain- 
ing the whiteness of the altar with 
translucent streaks of purple and red. 
Somewhere beyond that window was 
God. A great dense mass, yet through 
which the sun could penetrate as it 
was now, etching thin light-lines 
across the dimness of the church. It 
was strange how near to her God 
was on Sundays, while on other days 
she hardly remembered Him at all. 
Unless of course, something happen- 
ed. Like the day grandmother fell 
from the chair where she had been 
hanging curtains, or the time they 
carried Pop home from the mill, limp 
and white on a canvas stretcher. 
Then the cloud that was God came 
down close around her chest, filling 
her throat so that she could hardly 
breathe, only whisper to herself, 
"Please God, don't let anything bad 
happen, please God, please!" 

She must have spoken aloud for the 
nurse was at her side, brushing 
through the black cloud, straigliten- 
ing blankets, cool hands at th^ girl's 
wrist. Slie had wanted to be a nurse 
once, the girl remembered. Her 
grandmother hadn't liked that. Nor 
Pop. Pop, who wanted her to be a 
school teacher. A lady school teach- 
er, who could play the piano. She 
was glad the mass was over, so she 
could stretch her aching legs, and 
walk down the aisle and out onto 
the steps of the chruch. Her father 
had stopped to talk to the group of 
men around Father Ryan. Before her 
the street was lined with cars m.ostly 
new cars, her father's Star parked 
against the curb. Star was such a 
pretty name for an automobile. Pop 
had said that if things kept moving 
at tlie mill the owners would soon 
give every man a Star. They had 
the money. Pop said. It would be 
strange, thanking the owners instead 
of God for their car. The owner's 
weren't much different from God, 
really, except that they were there 
during the week, while God was only 
there on Sundays. You never saw 
either of them, but everyone knew 
they were there. 

A boy was coming up the steps to- 
ward the girl. He was broad slioul- 
dered and his hair was red, and the 
girl shivered, feeling him come. 

"Hello, Helen." 

"Hello Joe." 

The boy was passing her, walking 
on up, and into the church. She 
turned to watch him go, but there was 
a mist before her eyes, and she could 
no longer see him. Her grandmother 
was calling to her from the car. She 

Page Sixteen 


May 22, 1940 

moved, feeling the hardness of the 
stone beneath her feet. 

"Was that Joe Rynek spoke to 

The girl nodded, light headed. 

"What'd he want?" 

"I don't know. Nothing. He just 
said hello." Hello. Hello Joe Rynek. 
Pop was speaking, and she must 

"... Tony Rynek's boy? The one 
that wants to be a draftsman? Too 
high and mighty to take a job in the 
mill besides the likes of us." 

Joe, my lover. Joe, the man I love. 

The girl roused as the nurse enter- 
ed the room, closing the door behind 

Strange she would not have noticed 
then. The waiter had come with the 
dessert, ice cream it had been, in a 
squat dish. When he was gone she 
had waited for Joe to speak. 

"Well," he said, "what are we going 
to do?" 

"I don't know." His eyes had been 
hard, as though he did not know her. 

"How long ..." 

She had shrugged. "I don't know. 
About a month I guess." 

His eyes, veiled, remembering. "No 
more than that?" He shot her a 
quick glance, cool-eyed. 

The numbness had gripped her 
heart again, closer than before. 

"No Joe! Not that. I won't!" 

Even now, long months from that, 
her mouth was dry, remembering. He 
had gone on smoking. 

"Your grandmother know?" 

She had begun to talk. The need 
to say something, anything, forced the 
words from her throat. "No Joe. She 
doesn't know. I can't tell her. She 
Vi'ouldn't understand. She . . . hasn't 
been too clear . . . in the head I 
mean, since Pop died. 1 didn't even 
tell her we were married. I was 
afraid to. Afraid she'd get to talking 
with someone and forget, and it'd get 
back to the factory and I'd lose my 
job. There's so many waitin' to grab 
a job. They found out Kitty Dugan 
■was married last week and took her 
off. Why she was the fastest twirler 
on the line, too. Why one week 
I . . ." 



"Don't talk so loud." He had 
searched in his pockets for money, 
and beckoned the waiter. 

"Joe . What . . . what'll we do?" 

He turned to look at her, and when 
he spoke she was surprised at the 
gentleness of his voice. "I don't toow. 
I wish to God I did, but I don't. 
There's no work for me. Not any- 
thing. It isn't as though I wouldn't 

do anything. Anything. But I don't 
know, Helen. I just don't know." 

She should have known, then, but 
she didn't, and when the waiter took 
their money, she had slipped her arm 
through his and they had walked si- 
lently into the warm spring air. As 
they neared the corner where Helen 
was to catch her street car, she had 
stopped him by the pressure of her 
arm in his. 



"You're not sorry, are you? That 
we're married, I mean?" 

His voice had been long in coming. 

"No, I guess not." 

Her street car turned into the 
street where they stood, and she had 
to run to catch it. While they waited 
for the doors to open, he had kissed 
her briefly. "Good-bye, Helen. Be 

She had waved to him, even after 
he was gone from sight. She won- 
dered, now, what she would have 
done then if she had known that 
when the street lights blurred him 
from her sight she would never see 
him again. 

The hospital lights came on — hard 
white blots in small rooms. The girl 
closed her eyes against the persistent 
brightness of them. But the light 
filtered into her eyes — even through 
the thickness of the arm she bent 
across them, warm and heavy on her 
face. "Joe," she whispered dully. 
"Joe . . . Joe . . . Joe ..." 

The nurse came to the bed, and the 
girl could feel the shadow of her 
across her eyes. 

"Go to sleep. It's all right." 

But the girl would not listen. "Joe," 
she said. "Joe, Joe, Joe." 

It was as though all the fragments 
of her wandering thoughts were 
bound together in that one word, and 
some inner compulsion would not let 
her break the rhythm of her chant. 
"Joe," she whispered softly. "Joe." 

The nurse lifted her arm away 
from her face, and the brightness of 
the light fell on her unprotected eyes 
and pressed through her head to the 
pillow. The nux'se was sponging her 
face, and at the touch of the cool 
cloth on her skin she opened her eyes 
and saw the slanting line of the 
nurse's arm across her vision, and be- 
yond the straighter line where the 
bedstead cut fimaly into the white 
light. The crazy brilliance of the 
light sent her eyes to the cooler 
whiteness of the nurse's uniform. 

"What time is it?" she asked. 

The nurse smiled. "Almost five 
o'clock. Do you think if I brought 

something nice and cool to drink, you 
could try it?" 

The girl did not answer, and in a 
minute the nurse came with a glass 
and a curved glass tube. She set the 
glass on a low stool beside the bed, 
and put the tube between the girl's 
lips. The gii'l drank thirstily for a 
minute, savoring the cool sweetness 
in her mouth. The lights were not so 
bright now, and her head was easier 
on the pillow. The doctor came in, 
and the nurse spoke to him. 

"She seems calmer. I've given her 
some orange juice." 

The girl let the liquid drain into 
her throat. She did not refill her 
mouth. Orange juice. That was what 
Joe was doing. Picking oranges for 
orange juice. She had never seen an 
orange tree, but she knew how Joe 
would look, standing on a ladder with 
his shoulders in the orange tree, the 
broad sweat streak across the brow- 
nes3 of his shirt, between his shoulder 

"Joe," she whispered, and shoved 
the glass straw from her mouth, send- 
ing the glass crashing to the floor. 

Joe, who had not said good-bye. 
The girl started to cry, effortlessly, 
and the nurse looked up from the 
floor where she was cleaning the me=s 
the shattered glass had made. 

"Don't do that," she said. "Don't 
cry. It's all right. I'll have it all 
clean in a minute. There's nothing 
for you to worry about." 

The girl's sobbing stopped, but the 
tears still soaked into the pillow be- 
neath her face. "No," she thought. 
"Nothing to worry about. Nothing. 
Nothing. I had a man, and he's gone. 
I had a baby, and it's gone. And 
now I have nothing — nothing to wor- 
ry about. Nothing. Nothing." 

She drew her clenched fist along 
her mouth. "I'm sorry," she said. 
"So sorry." 

The nurse straightened, her uni- 
form spotted a little, mussed. "None- 
sense, she said. "You couldn't help 
it. I'll get another one." 

"Another one?" the girl thought. 
"Another what?" Oh yes. Another 
glass. It wouldn't be hard to get an- 
other glass. You could drop it, and 
shatter it in a thousand pieces, but 
it was easy to get another one. The 
girl's eyes were bright. Now if you 
could burn it! Then you could never 
get another one. Not if you burned 
it. Her hands twitched, feeling the 
warmth of fire on them, and suddenly 
the whiteness of the light was shaded 
with oranges, and she was kneeling 
by the fire in her grandmother's par- 
lor. It was the day after her grand- 

May 22, 1940 


Page Seventeen 

mother's funeral, she knew, for the 
smell of recent flowers was sickly- 
sweet in her nostrils. She was read- 
ing, for the last time, the document 
she held in her hands. This is to 
testify — Helen Warren and Joseph 
Rynek — joined in holy wedlock. Jo- 
seph and Helen Rynek. How strange 
the names looked in the heavy print. 
Hers and Joe's. But Joe was gone. 
And this was what she must do. 
Carefully she held the document to 
the flames, and the bright orange 
tongues reached out to take it. Her 
name went first, curling into noth- 
ingness. She held the charred edge 
and put the clean edge to the fire and 
the whole thing was gone — black 
ashes sifting through the flames. 

This was all, and yet, there was 
something more. Something more 
that must be done. To another paper. 
Pen in hand and the lies flowing 
swiftly on the white sheet. Dear 
Miss McDonough. I am twenty. 
Quite healthy. High school educa- 
tion. Catholic. Please let me know 
if I am admitted to the home. Dear 
Miss McDonough, I am about to be- 
come an unmarried mother." 

"Here you are, my dear." 

The nurse came to her with a 
fresh glass of orange juice. When the 
girl opened her eyes and saw the 
orange liquid she thought at first it 
was the fire, but when she reached 
out to take it. the glass was cool 
against her hand. 

"Thank you," the girl said. "Thank 
you very much." 

You Know. It Has a Happy Ending 

Marianne McCallister, '40 


By Frances Mahaffey, '40 

These, the little songs I sing 
Need not perish with the giver. 
Echoed down a curve of space 
I, through them, may live forever. 

Past the rotting fold of lips 

And the tear-scarred heart that gave 

Clay, that fashioned them of air 
Dies, and leaves the air to save 


The Garden 

By Jane Zacharias, 


A garden is for the young of heart — 

Beneath a sun-kissed hill, 

Where wealth is made of daffodil 

And happiness gay pansies hold. 
A place of tryst 
For searchers of God, in the evening 


"Jordon," Ginny said, without 
turning her head to look at him, 
"Jordy, tell me a story." 
"What kind of a story?" 
"Oh about a boy and girl in love, 
and what happened to them." 

•'Well," Jordan began, "once upon 
a time there was a boy who had 
known a girl for a very long time 
• — of course he had known lots of 
girls for a long lime — but this par- 
ticular girl he had seen at a lot of 
parties, and he had even been to her 
house to parties. They had always 
been friendly, but he had never 
thought much about her one way or 

Now/, it happened that one night 
this boy wanted to take a girl to a 
movie, but he couldn't think of any 
particular girl with whom he wanted 
to go. And while he was going over 
his list of possibilities, he happened 
to remember a pair of brown eyes 
which had laughed up at him while 
he was dancing at the country club 
on Saturday night . . . The browm 
eyes, of course, belonged to the girl 
whom he had known for a very long 
time, and suddenly he discovered 
that he would like to thinly about her 
in one way or another, instead of not 
thinking about her very much at all; 
so he called her up and asked her if 
she would like to go to a movie that 

The girl was a fairly popular girl; 
she did not go out every night in the 
week, but she did go out at least two 
or three evenings. It happened that 
on this particular night the girl was 
not going anywhere, and she was 
glad to accept his date, because, he 
learned afterward, she had always 
secretly liked the boy. 

So they went to the movie, and 
they had fun. They laughed at things 
which nobody else thought funny, 
and then they laughed at the other 
people because they had not laughed. 
Then they went to a quiet little place 
for a drink, and talked and talked. 
I can't imagine what they talked 
about then, for they didn't have 
much in common. On the way home, 
he turned on the radio so they didn't 
have to talk any more. 

When she went up to bed that 
night, and when he drove home they 
were both smiling, because it had 
been a lovely evening and neither of 
them knew why. 

Well, of course, they had more 
dates together, and still seemed to 
have just as much fun. They even 
worked out a little game which 
neither of them liked to play, but 
which they always played when they 
were together. It went something like 

Suppose they were dancing to- 
gether, and she would look up at him 
with deep, soft eyes as if he were 
the only thing in the world that mat- 
tered, and she would say, "You are a 
beautiful dancer." 

"You would be a charming part- 
ner yourself, if you could keep your 
feet out from under mine." 

"Oh. no, my darling," she would 
smile back. "You know, it's the way 
your hair grows out over your ears 
like unmowed hay that malves you 
so charming." 

His mouth would be straight, and 
he would remark: "Even I could be 
more original than that." 

"Why darling," she would say 
looking up at him with adoration, 
"with your beauty you've no need 
of wit." 

"And with your blazing charm and 
faultless gift of phrasing, people can 
bear that silly map of yours." 

She would look at him with 
thoughtful interest, and he would 
look at her with that "what are you 
thinking" look. 

"I was just trying to picture you 
bald," she answered the look. 

"Now there's a nice egg," he would 
say, pointing to a man whose hair 
had departed from him. 

"Um," she would answer, "and if 
you had his partner you wouldn't 
have to worry how large her feet 
were — you wouldn't be able to get 
near enough to them." 

"Oh, your feet aren't big, they are 
just unruly." 

"I suppose Dina is a beautiful 

"She is. And I suppose you like 
Johnnie's crew cut." 

"I do, I like everything about 
Johnnie. But you're pretty too — in 
your own crude way." 

Then they would both laugh, and 
not say anything for a while. Then 
they would be on their merry cut- 
ting way again, twitting each other 
about the other boys and girls they 
knew. Each time they played this 
game, they hurt each other more 
than the last time. They never spoke 

Page Eighteen 


May 22, 1940 

of love to each other, because each 
was afraid to take the other seriously. 
They agreed one night that women 
had as infinite a fascination for him 
as men had for her. 

And that's the way they went on 
for about six months. They found out 
all their differences: she smoked and 
he didn t, she drank rye and he 
drank Scotch, she liked sharp cheese 
and he liked mild, oh, and she read 
a lot and he seldom read, and all 
sorts of differences like that — so they 
knew they were not for each other. 
Her friends told her that he was the 
bachelor type, and his friends told 
him that she was an awful flirt who 
never thought of any one but herself, 
and that all she was made for was 
the amusement of the moment. Yet 
they still had dates, and still each 
struggled not to take the other se- 
riously. Bit by bit their efforts to 
keep from loving each other drove 
them to find little sources of irrita- 

One night they were dancing to- 
gether and he suddenly noticed that 
one of his ex-loves had entered the 
room. He knew the girl in his arms 
had seen her, too, because her body 
stiffened and she kicked him in the 
ankle as they were attempting to ex- 
ecute a rapid turn. He laughed and 
drew away from her, "Your eyes 
are as green as a cat's," he said. 

"Do you mean to stand there and 
think that I for one minute would 
or even could be jealous of that frow- 
zy, half-witted phizzle? And what's 
more, where did you get the idea 
that any female that had anything 
to do with you could make me jeal- 

"I think she is a most attractive 
girl " he countered, and if you had 
any taste at all you would too." 

"Why, that awful dress — I 
wouldn't wear it to a dog fight. Ooph! 
Ghastly! I can't imagine what Ted 
sees in her." 

"From tJie look in his eyes, I 
should say plenty. But how she can 
stand him; "why, he's no man — he's 

Just at that moment the couple un- 
der discussion danced up to them. 
The girl favored Ted with a lavish 
smile, and nodded none too politely 
to Jean, the Phizzle. 

The boy gave Jean all his atten- 
tion, and gave Ted a limp hand. Then 
the boy and girl gave each other a 
long look of hatred. 

"Won't you join us at our table?" 
the girl asked sweetly. 

"Oh, why, we'd love to, wouldn't 
we, Ted?" Jean answered, and the 

boy has learned since that her eyes 
were devouring him as she spoke. 

So Jean and Ted joined the boy 
and the girl at their table, and there 
followed one of the most unpleasant 
evenings which probably was ever 
spent by any one. You see the boy 
really didn't like Jean, and was bored 
to death by her constant launing. 
And the gii-1 actually found Ted 
most uninteresting, for, when he had 
commented on the weather, and 
told her that she looked lovely, his 
conversation for the evening was 
complete. So the girl had to make 
any conversation that was inade with 
Ted, and the boy had to respond to 
Jean with flattery that was so forced 
as to be perfectly ridiculous. At var- 
ious times during the evening the 
boy and girl glared at each other. 
Their dances together were frigid 
with silence. 

After a period of time v.'hich 
seemed to the boy and girl to be 
several months long, the orchestra 
played "Good Night Sweetheart," 
and folded up their music. No 
amount of applause would bring 
them back. Neither the boy or the 
girl was anxious to be left alone. 
However, they finally said good-night 
to Ted and Jean, and in stony si- 
lence with their faces straight in 
front of them, they went off to find 
his car. The ride home was a con- 
tinuation of that silence with the 
radio blaring deafeningly. At the 
door the girl said a short good-night 
and turned quickly so that the boy 
might not see the look of longing 
that had taken possession of her 
face. The boy turned just as quickly 
and leapt down the steps with the 
same purpose in mind. 

The boy and the girl knew they 
were in love, but long after their 
anger had gone their pride lingered. 
They had no dates together. The girl 
said that she couldn't stand that 
"featherweight, woman-crazy fool" 
any longer, and the boy told his 
friends that he had finally come to 
his senses and would see no more of 
that "selfish, irresponsible, spoiled 

Their friends had a wonderful 
time saying "I told you so" to each 
other and to the boy and girl, and 
each time someone said it they had 
to swallow a defence of their brok- 
en romance. When they came to the 
same party, as they sometimes did, a 
nervous silence would fall on the 
group. The boy and the girl would 
nod coldly to each other and strew 
animated conversation all over the 
people nearest to them. When they 

met in public, they nodded curtly and 
went in the opposite direction. 

Sometimes the orchestra would 
play a song that they had enjoyed 
together, and if the boy or the girl 
were dancing with a date, the date 
would be tripped over — forgotten. 
Once they were at the same dance, 
and just as the orchestra moved in- 
to (he first chorus of "All The Things 
You Are" — one of their mutual fav- 
orites — they eyes met over their part- 
ners' shoulders. Their faces told their 
tale of longing, but neither of them 
saw the story, and the girl, with 
quick transformation, gave her part- 
ner a radiant smile saying, "I just 
love this piece, don't you?" The boy 
could not see the other man's reply. 

The peek-a-boo game between 
them had been going on for over a 
month and the boy had given up try- 
ing to have dates with other girls, 
because he wasn't much interested in 
them any more and then, they 
weren't much interested in him. Who 
wants a man around who starts to 
day-dream in the middle of a roman- 
tic sentence? So, in desperation, he 
went to the public library and got a 
book. Well, he read the book Satur- 
day night and discovered that read- 
ing wasn't as bad as he had remem- 
bered it from his college days, so the 
next Friday evening he went back 
to get one for Saturday and another 
for Sunday. As he was coming up 
the walk toward the librai-y, he no- 
ticed an unusual sight. There on the 
stone steps to the library sat the 
girl. He felt sure that stone steps 
were no place for a girl to sit on a 
cold February afternoon, and from 
the hunch of her black shoulders he 
felt that there must be something 
wrong. He started up the steps with 
just the merest nod which she an- 
swered in kind, but something in her 
face under the acute angle of her 
hat brim made him walk across the 
staircase toward her. 

"If you find the American central 
lieating system too wann for you, 
why don't you try an American elec- 
tric refrigerator? I'm told they're 
quite cool." He stood before her with 
one foot on the pavement and the 
other on the second step, with an 
elbow resting on one knee, and his 
chin resting on his hand. 

"I didn't choose this spot,"' she 
answered. "This is where I happened 
to land." 

His eyes became concerned, 
"You've fallen," he choked, "You're 

"Nothing much," the girl said. 
"I've just sprained my ankle, but I 

May 22, 1940 


Page Nineteen 

can't seem to get up." 

"Let me help. Take my arm." 

"Thanks,' said the girl, and with 
this help she hobbled to his car. and 
from thence they drove to the doc- 

When the doctor had bound the 
sprain and they were back in the car, 
the color came back to her twinkling, 
round face, and the wide brown eyes 
regained their old, wicked sparkle. 
"Something," she said, "has been 
preying on my mind. What, in heav- 
en's name were you doing at the li- 
brai"y? Have you been reduced to the 
maiden librarians?" 

"No. — Aw, hell," he said, "I can't 
think of any answer to that. All I 
want to say is that I love you." 

"Well, why don't you? I love you." 

"Oh, darling, the vei-y next stop 
light I'm going to kiss you — right 
here in front of God and everybody." 

"First, we've got to promise not 
to play that nasty little game ever 

"Never, we've been unhappy 
enough from it." 

"No smart insults and no petty 
jealousies again," she promised sob- 

"Oh, never, never, my darling," 
* * * 

"And that's the end of the story, 
Cinny. You know, it has a happy 

"Hasn't it," Ginny sighed. "Though 
there were a couple of months there, 
when I never thought it could." 

"I couldn't have gone on much 
longer," Jordan said. "I would have 
had to call you." 

"If you hadn't, I'd have called you. 
I'm much better than a book any 
day, aren't I?'' 

' Oh, boy, yes! You're different 
every day." 

"Now that I've stopped smoking, 
everything would be perfect, if I'd 
learn to drink Scotch." 

"No," said Jordan, "all I need for 
perfection is your head on my shoul- 

So Ginny complied with his wish, 
and they .stretched out lazily on a 
bed of pine needles and looked up 
through the branches at the sky 
above them — the perfect sky of a 



Fresh Candies, Soda and Ice Cream 


Fifth and Wllkins Avenues 
Pittsburgh, Pa. 

Telephone MAyflower 0145 




THE whole college is talking about them 
—the low fare, we mean! And no 
wonder, with the back-home movement 
almost ready to begin! You can travel the 
Greyhound way— in Super-Coach comfort 
—at only Vi the cost of drivmg, at far 
less than by other public transportation. 
See your Greyhound agent today--or to- 
morrow anyway — about schedules and 
savings for our trip home! 

Grey Bus Terminal 

Liberty Avenue and Grant Street 
Phone: Grant 5700 

One-Way Fares 

New York 
Chicago . 
Boston . 
Detroit . . 
Buffalo . . 
St. Louis . 




Johnston The Florist 

MOntrose 7777 

5841 FORBES ST. 
HAzel 1012 j 

Page Twenty 


May 22, 1940 

Seniors Plan 

"Where, oh, where are the grand 
old Seniors? Safe now in the wide, 
wide world." No, not now, but soon, 
and a brief glimpse into the prob- 
able future of the Seniors in the 
World, shows some amazing, and 
some amusing things, if all goes as 
is planned. Mary Ellen Ostergard 
will continue doing library work by 
studying at the Carnegie Tech Li- 
brary School, and Tech also will 
enroll Aethelburga Schmidt in the 
gi-aduate school. Jean Curry will de- 
vote lier future to the education of 
those children now entering the ele- 
mentary grades. Marianne McAllis- 
ter will consider publishing a best 
seller — when she writes it . . . Jean 
Watson and Bery Bahr are consider- 
ing Met oflfers, which tlie Met is al- 
so considering, and both will prob- 
ably be a Mrs. to some Mr. in the 
not foo-distant future. Audrey Hor- 
ton will continue painting with one 
hand, and with the other she's go- 
ing to learn to cook! Kay Thompson, 
Ada Lee Mangum and Betty East- 
"wood are practicing up on the "I 
•do's" to be used sometime this sum- 
mer. Pat Brennan has a look in her 
eye, but won't 'less up. Fay Cusibler 
plans to teach, as do Anne Ludlow 
and Nancy Cockerille. Jean Aungst 
and Caddie Lou Kinzer want secre- 
tarial jobs (adv) and Hep Steven- 
son wishes the Arrow would tell her 
what she wants to do. Punky Cook 
will be hemming tea-towels, Ginnie 
Scott will be doing graduate work 
at Iowa, Betty Crawford at Pitt. El- 
eanor Gangloff will work at Heinz' 
from July to October, and then work 
in a hospital lab for a year, after 
which she hopes to commence to be 
an M.D. Renee Schreyer is founding 
her future on the hope of a job in a 
publishing house. Francis MahafEey 
hopes that something will, quote, 
"deliver me from inquisition," and 
Alida Spin-ning and Ruth Bauer are 
coming through with a sister act. 
They are both counseling at Epworth 
Woods Camp this summer, and then 
they will teach school in the fall. 
Betty Sweeney is the most ambitious 
Senior. She plans a summer of bask- 
ing in the sun, to prepare her for 
■capturing Hitler and winning the 
reward offered by Dr. Church, with 
-which she will endow the building 
fund. Then she will win the Vogue 
"Prix de Paris" contest. If these 
plans should fail, she will retire from 


/^^*^ FROM l^*^ 









D. C. 


















These reduced long distance rates are in effect 
every night after 7 and all day Sunday. Take ad- 
vantage of them to get in touch with the folks back 
home and with out-of-town friends. 



6010 Penn Avenue 

Let's Meet 

at the 

Debs Corner 

MOntrose 2144 


East End Store 
6018 Penn Avenue 


For Discriminating^ Women 

JAckson 4086 5875 Forbes Street 

public life and content herself with 
being a private secretary to a high 
executive lor about $250 a month 
and a private ofRce of her own. 

Our Monthly Reminder — 

Patronize Your Music Store 


Hacke Building 
207 Fifth Ave. Pittsburgh, Pa. 

Vol. XX 

Pennsylvania Collega for Women, Pittsburgh, Pa., October 9, 1940 

No. 1 



(See page 4) 

Page Two 


October 9, 1940 


Pennsylvania College for Women 
Pittsburgh, Pa. 

Subscription ^1.00 per year in advance 


National Advertising Service, Inc. 

College Publishers Representative 
420 Madison Ave. New York. n. y. 


Editorial Staif 

„ _,.. |Jo Anne Healy '41 

co-Editors (Jeanne-Anne Ayres '41 

Business Manager Betty Bacon '41 

News Editor Dottie Lou Evans '42 

Assistant News Editor Marion Lambie '43 

Features Editor Jean Burchinal '42 

Sports Editor Janet Ross '43 

Assistant Sports Editor Phyllis Keister '42 

„ _... I Claire Stewart '42 

Copy Editors {sertha Richards '41 

Make-up Editor Peggy Jane Wragg '43 

Assistant Make-up Editor Mildred Stewart '42 

„„ „ T3 J fRosemarie Filipelli '43 

Copy Readers Jj^^^^ j^. stratheam '42 

Faculty Adviser Hazel C. Shupp 

News Staff 

Marjorie Wood '42. Jane Wilmot '42. Claire Horowitz '43, Mary 
Anne Mackey '42. Jane Brooks '43. Joyce 'Wallis '42. Mary Jane 
Barter '42, Jean Sweet '43. 

Feature Staff 

Margaret Malanos '43. Althea Lowe '43. Jane Zacharias '41, Marden 
Armstrong '42. Mary Lou Henry '43. Anne Driver '42. Helen Moore 
'43. Jean Faris '42, Jean Miller '42, Midge Norris '42, 

Business Staff 

Alison Croft '42, Jane Fitzpatrick '43. Eleanor Garrett '42, Virginia 
Hendryx '43. Margaret Hibbs '42. Alice McKain '42. Ruth Pat- 
ton '42, Louise Rider '43. Anna Betty Saylor '42. Margaret Schar 
'43, Elizabeth Shipley '42, Mildred Stewart '42. 

Have You Noticed 

Freshmen really ■wearing their arm-bands this year 
. . . the number of ne'w.' pins and rings about campus 
. . . style in the cafeteria . , . anixety of the Arrow 
staff over first publication , . . the purty new gym suits 
freshmen are sporting . . . some people still clapping 
in a religious service . . . the startling brightness of new 
paint on the walls of library stairway . . . the kitten in 
the smoking room.. 

Seniors and Freshmen 

With so much in common, the freshmen and seniors 
should get together. Both have plenty to learn. New 
buildings, new books, new ways of taking notes, new 
people — these are problems for you freshmen. As for 
the seniois — we have four years' interpretation of tradi- 
tions to pass on, new responsibilities and offices to hold, 
and most of all, learning how to feel natural in our 

If we seniors seem horribly old and experienced, don't 
forget that looks are deceiving One thing is certain — 
freshmen look younger than we felt four years ago, and 
we don't feel nearly as old as the seniors looked then. 
Our old age is creeping up on us gradually. 

And when it comes to loneliness, seniors are almost 
even with freshmen. The last of our oldest friends left 
last June, and we cling to each other just as you at first 
clung to the few girls you knew before coming here. Re- 
member we too are somewhat shy among the quantities — 
and what quantities — of strange faces all around us. And 
■we are very much bewildered by your looking up to us. 
For the first time we are left without support. There are 
no classmen who are more upper than we are. Take it 
from us, it's a lot easier having no classes under you. 

You have four glorious years before you, filled with 
possibilities — friendships, discovery of new worlds in 
science or history, recognition and election to office by the 
other students, strengthening of old ideals and growth of 
new ones. With a spirit of cooperation and a little more 
than a half-way effort almost anything can be attained. 
For the seniors there are nearly the same possibilities in 
the future — only on a terrifyingly larger scale. Your four 
years stretch ahead of you as a very long time. The 
senior class is probably a remote and distant ^oal. Our 
greatest advice is: don't be fooled by time. Make the 
most of every minute, every course, every dance, every 
Mountain Day, every committee meeting. When you are 
seniors you will look back and realize how short the time 
has been, how many things you have missed, and how 
valuable each seemingly insignificant event has been in 
building up a rich college experience. 


To our stafi' for their cooperation and hard work we 
dedicate this first issue. 


In writing an editorial from the crowded 17th floor 
of the William Penn Hotel, in the midst of Willkie recep- 
tion proceedings, the Arrow staff is inaugurating the 
policy of this year's Arrow — more news — fresher news — 
interesting news. 

The Arrow has always been a student publication. 
This year it will try most of all to act as a sounding board 
of student opinion, and to express that opinion clearly 
and without prejudice. 

Working more closely with student organizations such the A, A., the Y, W. C. A., and Student Government, 
w,e hope to be able to urge better cooperation, to encour- 
age 'new and wider programs. We are your paper. We 
"will grind your axe, and pay your tribute, but most oi 
all we will print your news. 

October 9, 1940 


Page Three 




Last Thursday Republican presi- 
dential nominee Wendell L. Willkie 
arrived in Pittsburgh on the last lap 
of his campaign trip. After a parade 
through the downtown section, Mr. 
Willkie departed on a tour of the 
Pittsburgh industrial areas. Mean- 
while the William Perm Hotel, head- 
quarters of the Willkie entourage, 
swarmed with politicians, committee- 
women, reporters. The 17th floor was 
reserved Jor the Willkie reception. 
All afternoon elect Republicans 
awaited the arrival of the Repub- 
lican nominee, managed to create 
somewhat the air of an overgrown 
football rally. Chief rallyer was the 
strident-voiced female entertainer 
who enlivened the long wait by ren- 
dering such old favorites as "Take 
Me Out to the Ball Game," and "The 
Old Mill Stream." Later, volunteers 
were invited, and a small man named 
George (no one knew his last name), 
drew cheers and laughter from the 
audience with an original verse sung 
to the tune of "She'll Be Comin' 
'Round the Mountain." Sung in a 
George Cohan-like style, the chief 
verse went: 

"They'll be going back to Harvard 
when he comes 
They'll be going back to Harvard 

when he comes 
All the corny college comics, with 

their phony economics 
They'll be going back to Harvard 
when he comes. 
"There'll be many less New Dealers, 
less professors and free mealers 
They'll make room for Wendell 
Willkie when he comes," etc. 
As the crowd threatened to become 
maudlin with "Indiana Home" and 
"I'm a Willkie Booster Through and 
Through," Chairman Rob't Cook gave 
reporters intimate glimpses of Wen- 
dell Willkie's private life. He told of 
Willkie's son. Phillip, interrupting an 
interview with Mrs. Willkie by 
shouting "Hey, Mom, Dad says to 
tell you he doesn't have any clean 

"Rough and ready," chuckled 
Chairman Cook delightedly, "that's 
what he is. Why, when he cleaned 
up for the tour, he didn't even both- 
er to comb his hair. Just tossed it 
back and smoothed it with his hands, 
and away he went. Rough and ready." 

In a far comer enthusiastic State 

Assemblyman Chas. M. Christler, up 
for re-election, handed out free 
matches, stated "Wendell Willkie is 
the spontaneous choice of the people." 

Mr. Willkie was an hour and 15 
minutes late. Tired-eyed and grey- 
faced beneath his tan, he stepped 
from the elevator between two State 
Troopers, held out his hand to an 
admiring crowd, which immediately 
surrounded him. Wearied to the point 
of incoherence, Willkie mounted the 
rostrum, announced to the cheering 
mob: "I have driven 500 miles since 
I landed here, and have made 27 
speeches ... 1 have not the slightest 
illusion of how we are going to win 
This election." 

Shortly after, Mr. Willkie retired 
to his private suite, (16-A) rested 
until his departure for Forbes Field 
in an official Cadillac convertible se- 

J.A.H., J.S.B. 

JSoniinee's Wife 

Diminutive Edith Willkie gave ex- 
clusive interview to five Pittsburgh 
presswomen last Thursday evening 
in the Willkie suite on the 16th floor 
of the William Penn Hotel. Wearing 
a black dress with a pearl studded 
acquamarine yoke, black patent 
leather shoes, black velour hat, and 
carrying an Elizabeth Arden bag, she 
seemingly suff'ered no ill effects from 
the arduous tour on which she had 
accompanied her husband. 

Unsure of the room in which they 
were to interview Mrs. Willkie, ex- 
cited presswomen almost ran her 
down, were told smilingly "They said 
there was a harem here to interview 
Won't Show Dental Work 

As Mrs. Willkie smiled at press- 
women, photographers took flash pic- 
tures. "Oh dear! Please take one 
that doesn't show my teeth. Con- 
stituents keep writing in to ask why 
I always show so much dental work." 

In response to questions by Maxine 
Garrison of the Press, Mrs. Willkie 
admitted that her day in Pittsburgh 
had been a particularly hard one, but 
most thrilling. "I was surprised at 
the enormity of the crowds," she said. 

Asked by Anna Jane Phillips, of 
the Post-Gazette concerning the 
Willkie reception on the whole tour, 
Mrs. Willkie said, "It has been grand. 
In Michigan there were a few mis- 
informed rowdies, but not many. In 
Seattle we were applauded. They 

had rehearsed boo's for days, we 
were told, but they didn't use them. 
No I am not surprised at the courte- 
ous reception. My husband is a cour- 
teous man." 

Asked by Arrow representatives 
what she thought of women in poli- 
tics, she smiled, glanced at the floor. 
"I have no ideas on women in poli- 
tics, she said, "at least none that I 
would care to see printed." She 
went on to say that she had never 
made a speech — didn't intend to. 
"But I intend no criticism for peo- 
ple who do. It I didn't have home 
duties I'm sure I wouldn't just sit and 

Complimented by presswomen on 
her charming appearance, Mrs. 
Willkie said clothes were no prob- 
lem to her. "I wear the same type 
of clothes," she said, "and vary the 

As Mr. Willkie's brother, tall, 
good-looking came in to announce 
dinner, presswomen asked final ques- 
tion. "What do you intend to do on 
election night, Mrs. Willkie?" 

Pretty Mrs. Willkie smiled, 
shrugged her shoulders. "Take a 
sleeping pill and go to bed," she 
Hectic Campaign Atmosphere 

Before interviewing Mrs. Willkie, 
press representatives spent the in- 
terval of waiting in the hectic cam- 
paign atmosphere of Lem Jones' of- 
fice. Wearied by much campaigning, 
young publicity manager Jones took 
an audible and protracted shower, 
would not emerge even for the many 
urgent calls which were taken by his 
harassed assistant. Embittered by 
the long wait. Cameraman Ross de- 
manded drop by drop bulletins of Mr. 
Jones progress, suggested roller 
skates for the frantic assistant. 

Tired campaign attaches drop- 
ing in with publicity reports, com- 
mented disparagingly on the Pitts- 
burgh climate, said Mr. Willkie's re- 
ception had varied according to the 
districts he visited, but on the whole 
had been satisfactory. 

J.A.H., J.S.B. 

Campus Candidates 

Next month as election fever nears 
its climax, PCW will enter the po- 
litical field with a mock convention 
and election to be staged on campus 
November 4th. It will be a mixed 
convention, with many and divers 
political parties represented. How- 

Page Four 


October 9, 1940 


ever, due to the nearness of the na- 
tional election, interest can be ex- 
pected to center upon the candidates 
from the two parties which the fol- 
lowing day will test their strength in 
actual presidential election. (The 
identity of the PCW candidates has 
not yet been announced). 

Auditorium Will Become Convention 

The late afternoon will probably 
be taken up with last minute cam- 
paigning by candidates aspiring to 
nomination that evening. The chapel 
-will become Convention Hall, with 
delegates arriving in bannered cars 
and shouting slogans. The hall itself 
will be bunting-draped, decorated 
with the slogans and pictures of the 
various candidates. In the evening, 
after the nominating speeches have 
been made, the ballot will be cast. 
Since all candidates will appear from 
the same platform, portions of the 
auditorium will be reserved for the 
members of the different parties. 
There will be a gallery for the spec- 
tators. Cheering sections, and a band 
will provide the proper convention 
spirit. It is rumored that the conven- 
tion will be honored by the appear- 
ance of No. 1 American, Uncle Sam. 
and staunch members of the two ma- 
jor parties from the 1890's to the 
present day will appear in frock- 
coats and wigs. 
Torchlight Parade 

Chief attraction of the evening will 
be a torchlight parade, in which the 
entire school will participate. 

The co-operation of both students 
and faculty is needed to make the 
convention a complete success. 


Mellon Hall Preview 

News of Mr. Paul Mellon's gift to 
PCW attracted the attention of pa- 
pers from Maine to California last 
July. Long considered one of Pitts- 
burgh's most beautiful estates within 
the city limits, the new Andrew Mel- 
lon Hall will mark the beginning of a 
new epoch in PCW's history. 

Last week proud members of the 
Arrow staflf were invited by Dr. 
Spencer to a pre-view tour of the 
house and grounds. Excited editors 
jotted notes on envelope backs as 
they admired the white swan on the 
lily pond, and walked under grace- 
ful hanging willows to castle-like 
Mellon Hall. Viewed across stretch- 

ing lawns, the house rises above its 
surroundings, reveals greater size 
than appears from Woodland Road. 

Inside the huge stone and oak- 
paneled hall, impressed staff mem- 
bers viewed the antique carved wood 
Italian mantle-piece stretching the 
full height of the hall; the shining 
oak stairway heavily carpeted; the 
elevator behind a paneled door. 
Opening out of the main hall, the 
oak and carved tufa stone library is 
probably the most beautiful room. 
Wide bay windows line one side of 
the library, book-cases and a chest- 
high fireplace another. 
Exotic Observatory 

Also on the first floor is a Nor- 
wegian breakfast room in light pine, 
opening on a flagstone patio, and be- 
yond a small study done in aqua- 
blue. Most exotic room is the glass 
and marble conservatory — with 
vaulted ceiling and separate heat- 
ing system. 

On the second floor. Arrow mem- 
bers counted five baths, eight rooms. 
The master bedroom and the two 
suites of connecting bedrooms have 
built-in cupboards, fireplaces, Ve- 
netian blinds. Beyond the cupboard- 
lined dressing room is the unique all- 
aluminum libraiT, said to be the 
only one of its kind in existence. A 
small sitting room has a built-in ra- 
dio which can be tuned in by every 
room of the house. 
Cedar Closet 30 Feet Long 

The third floor, well-suited to 
dormitory usage, has two guest rooms, 
seven bedrooms, all looking out on 
the spacious grounds. Guest rooms 
have built-in cupboai'ds, wood-burn- 
ing fireplaces. Heavy carved doors 
separate some corridors, open on 
cedar storage room thirty feet long. 
Swimming: Pool Ready by November 

In the sub-basement. Arrow staff 
admired the pine-paneled ballroom, 
with separate niche for orchestra, 
the double bowling alleys, the mag- 
nificent white-tiled swimming pool, 
(see cover) "We will begin using it 
by November." predicts President 

Outside, through a doorway from 
the pool to the lawn, the composition 
tennis court, wired for night lighting, 
has permanent markers, practice 
board, visitors' bench. Ten-car gar- 
age has space for two small audi- 
toriums, upstairs rooms can be sound- 
proofed for music department. 

Dividing PCW's old campus from 
the new one, Mellon's fence has long 

represented the limitations of PCW 
campus. Next week it will go down. 

Nearly all rooms on first floor have 
wood-burning fireplaces. The one in 
the hall is almost ten feet across, 
will hold logs cut from last week's 
fallen trees. 

Long admired by students for its 
lovely flowers, the small plot of land 
at the fork in Woodland Road may 
become a bowling green. 

Due to new heating units install- 
ed three years ago, the entire Mellon 
Hall, including water for the swim- 
ming pool, can be heated at an ap- 
proximate cost of $1,400 a year. 

Official PCW comment on the Mel- 
lon donation is voiced by Board of 
Trustee's President Arthur Braun. 

"The trustees of the Pennsylvania 
College for Women are deeply grate- 
ful to Mr. Paul Mellon for his gener- 
ous and noteworthy gift to the Col- 
lege. Faculty, students, and alum- 
nae will be elated by this powerful 
stimulus to the work of the institu- 
tion and this expansion of its oppor- 
tunity for service. This strengthen- 
ing of the facilities of the College is 
an important addition to the educa- 
tional resources of tlie Pittsburgh dis- 
trict and its influence for good will 
be far-reaching. 

"The College will strive in every 
way to create and maintain in An- 
drew Mellon Hall a worthy memorial 
to a man who was long a trustee of 
the College and for many years 
Pittsburgh's most distinguished citi- 
zen. In paying this tribute to his 
father and in making possible an im- 
portant extension of the work of the 
College, Mr. Paul Mellon has dem- 
onstrated again his own fine spirit 
and interest in his community." 


PCW Ambulance 

Last November a number of Amer- 
icans and French joined forces in 
their desire to give aid to France. 
Organized under the name Secours 
Franco-American, the group has a 
registered number in Washington. At 
its head is PCW's energetic Mme. 
Marguerite M. Owens and vice presi- 
dent Sarah H. MacGonagle is one of 
the alumnae. Appropriately, its 
monthly meetings are held at PCW. 

Originally organized to send cloth- 
ing and surgical dressings to France, 
Secours Franco-Americain now ships 
everything to refugees in England. 
Whole villages have sprung up over- 

October 9. 1940 


Page Five 


night and some 50,000 inhabitants 
need everything from furniture to 

Last summer able President Owens 
obtained special permission from 
British Embassy in Washington to 
convey goods directly to England. 
Obviously anti-Nazi, the group takes 
no chances of having its hard-earned 
supplies fall into Hitler's hands. Due 
to limited space, every article in 
twelve one-thousand pound sacks had 
to be listed. Finally last August 
word came the goods was of suffi- 
cient value to go across to England. 
PCW Does Its Share 

Long in sympathy with the or- 
ganization, last spring PCW con- 
tributed as a whole for the first time. 
Faculty, alumnae, students responded 
eagerly to plans for an ambulance 
fund. Largest class contribution was 
made by the present sophomore class. 
Largest donation in proportion to 
size of membership was that of sym- 
pathetic PCW faculty. SGA alone 
gave two hundred dollars. Due to 
lateness in the year not all students 
or alumnae were approached, the 
fund lacked some four hundred dol- 
lars of required thousand. Feeling 
certain that a continued campaign 
this fall would bring in sufficient 
funds, Secours Franco-Americain ad- 
vanced the remaining amount. Al- 
most immediately General Charles 
de Gaulle asked for ambulances, re- 
ceived PCW's machine, proudly bear- 
ing a brass plate with the words: 
"Donated by the Pennsylvania Col- 
lege for Women Committee of the 
Secours Franco-Americain, Pitts- 
burgh, Pa." 
Possible Unit Here In College 

At present it is a hope of the or- 
ganization that PCW will become a 
unit of the Secours Franco-Americain. 
October 3 a meeting discussed plans 
of smaller group divisions for col- 
lecting money, making surgical 
dressings, knitting and sewing. 

Said President Owens: "I want 
to express my gratitude to the Stu- 
dent Body, the Alumnae, and Fac- 
ulty of PCW for the generous contri- 
bution they made toward the pur- 
chase of an ambulance for the Free 
French Forces in England; and to 
wish them success in the formation of 
a student unit of the Secours Franco- 

"This unit will be of great help in 
relieving the suffering of thousands 
of refugees in England, and thus ■will 
indirectly help in the preserving of 
our Democracy." 

A. A. Picnic 

Saturday, September 28, PCW fac- 
ulty and students turned out for the 
annual A. A. -sponsored Moimtain 
Day at Mill Grove, North Park. The 
crowd ate heartily of the traditional 
hamburgers, "dogs," baked beans and 
ice cream, sang lustily between num- 
erous refills. After lunch, sophisticat- 
ed collegiennes broke balloons with 
the usually sedate faculty. An en- 
thusiastic gaUery heckled Dr. Mar- 
tin and class representatives Mary 
Linn Marks, Jean Burchinal, Louise 
Wallace, and Mary Lou Reiber, 
through a milk-gulping contest, later 
cheered Yvonne de Silva and Gloria 
Silverstein as they came down the 
home stretch on three legs. Senior 
racers, aided by the swift-running 
sons of Dr. Ferguson, won a box of 

Grand finale of the day was the 
play-off of the annual J acuity-student 
mushball game, won by the students 
14 to 12. Faculty-catcher Wallace, 
embittered by the number of bus 
drivers batting for the opponents, 
called for more student participation. 
Retorted students, after viewing the 
disastrous work of the busmen in the 
outfield. "Next year they can play 
for you — if they aren't already." 

The game over, the large crowd, 
tired but still singing hoarsely, found 
their buses and cars — voted this 
year's Mountain Day "the best we've 

Call to Arms 

PCW issued a Call to Colors last 
Saturday night that brought droves 
of enthusiasts from all parts of the 
local country. Official bulletins from 
Woodland Hall were sent out under 
the supervision of General Healey 
and her staff. No Femopia gathering 
this, the enlisted men knew how to 
act in the emergency during the 
third dance when there was a black- 
out. Air raid sirens screamed danger 
but panic was quelled when Lieuten- 
ant Shidemantle murmured just 
audibly that a special aid raid shel- 
ter had been built for the Coca Cola. 
Streamlined Canteen 

Streamlined and modern, the Can- 
teen drew attention from the start 
and, like its parent in the old mili- 
tary camp, lost none of its popu- 
larity during the evening. 

Ha\ing volunteered for duty early 
in the evening, special Suicide Squads 
carried out the dangerous assignment 
of breaking up groups of recruits 
huddled in corners under the red, 
white and blue bunting. Holding that 
these groups were suspected of sub- 
versive activities, the squads did 
their work thoroughly and compe- 
tently, lost not a single man. 
Drafty Government 

Following the custom of all Mili- 
tary Staffs. General Healey and Lieu- 
tenants Marks, Clipson, and Shide- 
mantle. found opportunities for 
private conferences with promising 
fifth columnists and secret agents. 
Suggested as a side line for the new 
Fifth Column was a plan to sabotage 
government competition. "They're 
trying to steal our men." one officer 
was heard to say concerning the 
draft, "but they can't do it if we get 
them fii-st." 

Doubt remained in official circles 
as to whether PCW's new army was 
tough enough to stand the rigours of 
militai-y existence, but hope rose 
when R. O. T. C. members from Pitt 
and Tech volunteered to help train 
recruits. "We've been able to do it," 
one senior remarked smugly, "all 
ya got to do is what they tell ya." 
Aides-de-camp rubbed hands glee- 
fully over this year's crop, refused to 
be quoted in the press. 

Tete a Tete 

Miss Marks and Mrs. Spencer en- 
tertained at a tea on Tuesday, Oc- 
tober 8, from 3:30 to 5:00 at the 
Spencer home. 

The tea was given for advanced 
standing students. Student Govern- 
ment Board, YW cabinet. A. A. 
Board, Arrow editors, and advisors 
of these groups. 

Rise and Shine 

Are you hiding your talents under 
a bushel? Do you have a yen for 
acting? Can you play Bach and 
forth on Chopin? Or maybe you're 
one of those genii for managing suc- 
cessful parties. Well, here's your 

Under the new Activities Program 
you will be given your opportunity to 
show PCW what you can do. Every- 
body around PCW is very enthusi- 
astic about the new Activities Pro- 
gram because under this plan each 
member of the student body is eligi- 
ble to participate in all of the ex- 

Page Six 


October 9, 1940 


citing events which are scheduled for 

this year. 

Variety Is The Spice Of Life 

You know what fun we had square 
dancing at the Get Acquainted Party. 
And you'll probably never forget how 
luscious those hamburgers tasted on 
Mountain Day. Well that's only the 
beginning. Only the beginning. 

Here's a tip. The Activities Com- 
mittee is planning a fall play, a 
Christmas party, and a glorious 
sleigh ride for one and for all. 
May I Sugrgest Romance 

But let's not get too far ahead of 
ourselves. The Big and Little Sister 
Dance is just around the corner 
waiting to happen. So all you fresh- 
man gals and big sisters take notice — 
for an evening of fun and frolic come 
to the Big and Little Sister Dance. 
A Word To The Wise 

Just because the Seniors have been 
here at PCW doesn't mean their 
class should reign supreme. You 
sophomores get to work and prove 
that you can do just as well if not 

And you juniors had better watch 
out. That freshman class has some 
real talent. 

All in all I have a feeling that class 
competition this year at PCW is 
terrific. Each class must have the 
aid of every one of its members. 
Your class needs you in order to win. 
Name It And It's Yours 

Since the Activities Program is a 
new installment at PCW, we are 
very much interested in hearing what 
you think about it. If you have any 
ideas contact Gladys Patton '41, Jean 
Hill '41, or your class president. 

Just give us your suggestions and 
we'll do our best to make them work 



PCW's Chemistry professor, Earl 
K. Wallace, is president of the Pitts- 
burgh section of the American Chem- 
ical Society. At noon, Friday, Oc- 
tober 11, he will present gi-eetings to 
the Associated Science Groups of the 
Western Pennsylvania Educational 
Association Conference at a lunch- 
eon at the Schenley Hotel. Octo- 
ber 10, 11, and 12 mark the twelfth 
meeting of the Western Pennsylva- 
nia Educational Association Confer- 

Nine o'clock Saturday morning. Dr. 
Wallace will participate in a panel 

discussion. Title: "Science as a Way 
of Life." Place: the auditorium of 
Greek-columned Mellon Institute. 
Leader of the discussion will be Uni- 
versity of Pittsburgh's Dr. Black- 
wood, members of the physics de- 
partments. Other speakers are Dr. 
Emerson, University of Chicago; Dr. 
Gray, biologist. University of Pitts- 
burgh; and Dr. Hollinger, Director of 
Science in the Pittsburgh Public 


The faculty of PCW enjoyed sum- 
mer vacations at camps, summer 
schools, resorts, and traveling all over 
the country by motor and train. 

Terminating her six weeks of sum- 
mer school at Alabama College for 
Women, Mrs. Rand visited relatives 
in Alabama and in Mississippi. Re- 
turning to Pittsburgh on August 1, 
she spent two weeks here, then left 
with her husband for a tour through 
Michigan, Wisconsin, Illionis, and In- 

Another coast to coast trip took 
Miss Dysart from New York to Wash- 
ington where she spent six weeks on 
Vashon Island on Puget Sound. She 
then skirted the Coast from Wash- 
ington to San Francisco and mo- 
tored home. 

Head of Music Department Miss 
Welker attended Bennington School 
of Arts in Vermont where there are 
four arts represented: music, modem 
dance, theatre design, and drama. 
Here she studied contemporary mu- 
sic for six weeks. 
Attracted By New England 

Art instructor Mr. Rosenberg trav- 
eled to Rockport, Massachusetts, on 
Cape May where he painted and 
fished. Here he worked on his pic- 
ture for the American Exhibition 
which is to be held at Carnegie In- 
stitute this October. Leaving Rock- 
port, he made an extensive tour of 
New England and returned home 
after a period of two months. 

Monhegan Island, eleven miles off 
the coast of Maine, was the destina- 
tion of Miss McCarty. Here she 
spent four weeks, coming back by 
train to spend the one remaining 
week of her vacation at home. 

Miss Bair traveled for a month by 
steamship from New York to San 
Francisco stopping at noted places of 
interest on the way: Havana, Panama 
City, and Acapulco, Mexico. Arriv- 
ing in California, she visited Yose- 
mite valley, San Francisco, and Los 

Angeles. From there she journeyed 
homeward on the Sante Fe Railroad 
spending a day in the Grand Canyon 
and two days in Sante Fe. 

Mrs. Benn spent three weeks at 
Kennebunk Beach in Maine, traveled 
to a ski lodge on the eastern slopes, 
continuing across New Hampshire to 
Moose Mountain Ski Lodge. Leaving 
there, Mrs. Benn stopped at Camp 
Aloha in Vermont and returned by 
way of Boston and New York. 


Testing Textiles 

Not getting behind the times 
by being closed up over the summer, 
the old geology room on the rez de 
chasseures of the Science Building 
was remodeled during the vacation 
period, became another laboratory 
where Dr. E. K. Wallace and his 
crew carrying on scientific investiga- 

At one entrance of this new lab 
is what appears to be the family wash 
— ironing boards and shiny new 
Westinghouse irons, clothes pins and 
all the other paraphenalia for an or- 
dinary Monday. Pondering over a 
desk any hour of the day are Louise 
Lean '40, and Eleanor GanglofI '40, 
recording their day's findings. Also 
to be found there is Scientist Wallace, 
supervising the project. 

The Westinghouse Research Fel- 
lowship, established at PCW on Aug- 
ust 1 of this year has possibilities of 
renewal at yearly intervals, places 
particular emphasis on the durability 
of various textiles. 

Another department confines itself 
to research in the fields of Oils and 
Fats. At present the particular in- 
terest is in attaining new commercial 
products from natural fats. 

Assisting Dr. Wallace in this par- 
ticular fellowship are Dr. Scholl, Mrs. 
Frances Clark Moore '37, Joan Dodds 
'36, and Pauline Sommerfeld '40. 


Honors — special honors and gen- 
eral honors — comprehensive examin- 
ations and seminars are weighing on 
the minds of seniors at the present 
time. For this year inaugurates a 
system of awarding Commencement 
honors which is new to PCW, and 
certain questions are asked by stu- 
dents who want to know what is the 
exact relationship between compre- 
. . . continued on page 16 

October 9, 1940 


Page Seven 


The Mellons 

Few people know or realize the 
extent of the Mellons' gifts, which 
though usually made to Pittsburgh 
institutions, are not confined to them. 
One of the reasons for this ignor- 
ance is that the Mellons have always 
preferred to l\;eep out of the public 
eye, and most of their gifts have been 

Among their contributions to edu- 
cational and cultural institutions have 
been: A heavy endowment to Choate 
Preparatory School; large contribu- 
tions to the Stephen Foster Memorial 
and the Pittsburgh Symphony Or- 
chestra; gifts to the Kingsley Settle- 
ment House; aid to the Carnegie In- 
ternational Art Exhibit; the Mellon 
Residence on Forbes Street which 
was donated to Carnegie Tech as a 
dormitory; the plot of land on which 
the Cathedral of Learning now 
stands, and, in addition, large con- 
tributions to the University of Pitts- 
burgh Building Fund; a fellowship 
established at the Wilmer Opthalmo- 
logical Institute; and, of course, the 
new National Art Gallery in Wash- 
ington, D. C, which will be one of 
the greatest in the world and a 
symbol of the cultural leadership of 
Contributions Cover Broad Field 

The Mellon Institute of Industrial 
Research was built for the purpose 
of aiding the practical cooperation of 
science and industry. Also in the 
list of scientific donations, are the 
Pneumonia Research and the Smoke 
Research which are maintained by 
the Mellons. 

Worthy causes have always found 
the Mellons willing to help. The 
American Red Cross, the hospitals 
of the Pittsburgh district, and the 
Community Fund, to mention a few, 
have been greatly benefited and aided 
by the Mellons. The new East Lib- 
erty Presbyterian Church was large- 
ly made possible through the efforts 
of the Mellons who contributed heav- 
ily to it. 

One of the greatest contributions 
of the Mellon family has been the 
establishment of the Mellon Educa- 
tional and Charitable Trust, a fund 
established by the late Andrew W. 
Mellon for the purpose of continuing 
his benefactions to educational and 
charitable organizations. 

Ranking perhaps first in import- 
ance, as far as PCW students are 
concerned, is the recent gift of the 

Woodland Road residence to the col- 
lege. This beautiful building will be 
called Andrew Mellon Hall as a 
memorial to Andrew W. Mellon, wlao 
was for many years a member of our 
Board of Trustees. 

Success Story 

Pretty 18-year-old violinist Betty 
Jane Atkinson, a student last year 
at PCW, arrived home again second 
week of September after completion 
of Leopold Stokowski's Youth Or- 
chestra's concert tour to South Am- 

She described her South American 
trip as "a romantic boat trip, soft 
breezes, big yellow moon, soft, sweet 
music, intriguing rhumbas, famous 
people, hundreds of concerts. South 
American night life, high atop the 
world riding over mountains in a 
cable car. dinner at the Governor of 
Trinidad's beautiful home, and con- 
certs thrilling thousands of people." 
Chosen By Stokowski 

Last spring Betty Jane was chos- 
en by Leopold Stokowski as first 
violinist with his Youth Orchestra. 
Leaving Pittsburgh on July 6th, Betty 
Jane arrived in Atlantic City, New 
Jersey, early the next morning. 

The orchestra assembled there and 
began rehearsing five hours a day 
for three solid weeks. Before sailing 
the orchestra gave concerts at At- 
lantic City, Baltimore, New York. 

"The excitement began on board 
the boat." said Betty Jane. "No re- 
hearsals and plenty of time for fun. 
The Mills Brothers and Gertrude 
Lawrence became very sociable with 
all of us and we learned to know 
them very well." 

The first concert in South America 
was given in Montevideo, where the 
English and Germans recently engag- 
ed in a naval battle. 

Next the orchestra traveled to Rio 
de Janeiro. "Coming into the Rio 
harbor beneath a silver moon — 
brightly lighted boulevards — the 
most beautiful sight of my trip, an 
illuminated statue of Christ on top 
of Rio's highest mountain," are im- 
pressions Betty Jane received. 

The orchestra spent most of its 
time in Buenos Aires. Here Betty 
Jane was chosen along with several 
others from the entire group to make 
a recording for Columbia Records. 
Within a fortnight they gave thirteen 
concerts plus three hours of rehears- 
als a day. 

Mountain Climbing In Cable Cars 

Using Buenos Aires as headquar- 
ters, the group traveled to many 
nearby cities. "The San Paulo trip 
was the most exciting of these one 
night concerts. Thousands of feet 
above the valleys, we rode from 
mountain to mountain via cable cars. 
We almost died of panic when one 
of the cars started backwards. Many 
of the group became ill from the rap- 
id change in climate." 

When asked how she liked work- 
ing under Stokowski Betty Jane rap- 
idly said, "I love it! He didn't make 
us spend all oui- time giving con- 
certs, rehearsing, or resting. He has 
a superb sense of humor and tells 
the most amusing jokes. He allowed 
us to stay out as late as we wanted, 
but made it certain that we must al- 
ways be in condition for rehearsals 
and concerts." 

In response to a question about 
South American men, Betty Jane re- 
plied that they were the same as 
everywhere else; they always smile 
at all the women and especially 
young girls. 

The biggest audience the orchestra 
had was 28,000 people at Trihelo. And 
when the Youth Orchestra goes to 
Hollywood in January to make a 
movie it can expect an even greater 

Home Run 

New physical education instructor 
Miss Eleanor Graham surprised PCW 
with her performance on Mountain 
Day. Trying to hear in chapel is next 
to impossible in some sections, so few 
really heard the recitation of Miss 
Graham's history. Therefore, no ex- 
citement or interest was aroused. 
Then came Mountain Day and that 
was a different story. Questions about 
the slight blond girl in the tan dress 
began to circulate. Everyone thought 
that she was a .student and it wasn't 
until the student-faculty mushball 
game that her identity was revealed 
to many. She was known by the fact 
that she played with the faculty and 
by the results she achieved when she 
came to bat. Miss Graham stood at 
home plate holding the bat parallel to 
her body — until the ball left the 
pitcher's hand. Then she swung the 
bat back and connected for a home 
run. Liking all sports equally well, 
Miss Graham is proficient in them 
all. She is a worthy addition to 
PCW's faculty. 

Page Eight 


October 9, 1940 


''Think TaW 

It was quite by accident that blond 
young Genevieve Jones (at present 
a member of the PCW faculty) be- 
came Pittsburgh's foremost exponent 
of the modern dance. Home from the 
Hellerain Laxemberg School in 
Vienna, she consented one day to 
teach a dancing class. Like Topsy, 
it "just growed." Now Miss Jones 
has her own studios on Murray Hill 
avenue, where she gives programmes 
as well as teaches dancing. During 
Miss Errett's leave of absence. Miss 
Jones will have classes at PCW; be 
lieves college girls are most inter- 
ested in developing the poise and 
grace inherent in dancing. 

A tiny person off stage, Miss Jones 
adds inches to her height by "stand- 
ing and thinking tall." She adds 
height to her living room by paper- 
ing it sky blue, keeps a brass flower 
pot filled with purple astors. 

Of her work Miss Jones says, 
"Dancing has a three-fold value; to 
the performer and the audience; to 
those who vote social dancing their 
favorite recreation; to those who 
dance solely for the fun and satis- 
faction of movement and self-ex- 

Dr. Martin 

Number 1 addition to the Biology 
Department, Jimmy Doutt, aged 1 
month, is as yet too young to teach 
classes, has as his substitute. Dr. 
Martin. Degrees from the University 
of Pittsburgh. (B. S. and M. S.), and 
from the University of Illinois, 
(Ph. D.), testifying to her undoubted 
ability, Dr. Martin is no stranger 
to PCW. taught here between '35-37. 

Bom in England, her command of 
American slanguage is as great as 
that of any college student. Those 
hunting for traces of her birthplace 
in her speech will have difficulty 
finding them. 

Returning in February, Dr. Doutt 
will take Dr. Hunter's classes and the 
Marriage Course, Dr. Martin teach- 
ing Dr. Doutt's former classes. 

New Alma Mater 

Newly arrived in the Dean's office 
is Miss Hayford, present Secretary 
to Miss Marks. A graduate of Oberlin 
College (B. A. in Philosophy) and 
Syracuse University (M. A. in Per- 
sonnel Works), Miss Hayford is or- 

iginally from Albany, New York, says 
diplomatically that she is glad to 
add PCW to her list of Alma Maters. 
Claiming to be a conservative. Miss 
Hayford would trade sloppy cardi- 
gans for the sophisticated town 
clothes, likes those in blue or green. 
Also on her list of enthusiasms are 
Italian Renaissance paintings, tall 
dark men. 

"Where Oh Where?" 

That the bevy of brainy and beau- 
tiful babes, who June last waved us 
salty farewells, will be missed can 
not be denied. So back through those 
long shadows of four intervening 
months, to whisk them to our portals 
for hasty peeps at their many suc- 
What of Ex -Practice Teachers 

School marm Jean Curry is pound- 
ing some book-lai-nin' into Perrys- 
ville scholars; Alida Spinning ven- 
tured forth for her round shiney ap- 
ples at Turtle Creek; and Jean Wat- 
son is singing "Good-morning, chil- 
dren" at Patton Township. 
One Diploma Wasn't Eonugh 

So, Mary Ellen Ostergard is now 
holding forth at C.I.T. Library School 
for Graduates; Betty Crawford is Re- 
tail-Training-It at Pitt while two 
other very industrious young ladies, 
namely Ginnie Scott and Ruth Clark, 
are studying for their master's at 
Iowa and Western Reserve. 
We Have 

... a sure cure for any disease. 
Petite Ruth Mary Arthur went into 
training at Allegheny General. 

. . . someone who can give you in- 
formation on those Dinorchocisis or 
whatayoucallums at Carnegie Mu- 
seum . . . remember Sally Brown, 
she's on the CM. staff. 

. . . three graduate engineers. 
Peggy Christy and Betty Sweeney 
are exercising their knowledge of 
steel (as type mechanics) at Car- 
negie-Illinois; likewise Katherine 
Rutter at National Carbon and Car- 
And Then 

Caddie Lou Kinzer sports a title 
on the door to her office. She is as- 
sistant to Miss Kolb at the Frick 

Jane Hanauer and Jean Cate are 
back at the grind-stone as students. 
Polly Sommerfield is doing research 
work for Dr. Wallace and believe it 
or not Weezie Lean and Eleanor 
GanglofE have gone domestic, are 
washing and ironing clothes for 

Westinghouse, using PCW labs for 

the experiment. 

And Don't Forget That Middle Aisle 

Jean Keister Ratcliffe and Eleanor 
Offill are settled down to good old- 
fashioned housekeeping — the former 
in Clarksburg, W. Va., the latter in 
Pittsburgh. And Ada Lee Mangum, 
who became Mrs. Bruce Clarl?; the 
Saturday after commencement, is, 
at least at last reports , working for 
Montgomery- Ward. 

As for future wedding bells, well, 
the middle aisle is going to be well- 
crowded this fall and winter, for, 
making last-minute preparations are: 
Pat Brennan for the 31st of October, 
Punky Cook and Kay Thompson come 
this yule-tide next. Frances Shoup, 
Nancy Over and Ellen Marshall have 
the rings but not the dates ,as yet. 
Last But Not Least 

Rachel Kirk, co-editor of last year's 
Arrow, is, per usual, keeping very 
busy with several very hot irons in- 
the fire. For instance, she does occa- 
sional bits for the Bulletin Index, 
sells hats at Homes. 

So, class of '40, keep up the good 
work, our very best goes with you. 

Here and There 

styles change and skirts get short- 
er; the Arrow is revamped and we, 
like the bustle — are back again. 
There are fewer familiar faces and 
more purple armbands, and the 
Dreadful Draft lurks in the offing — 
but love is still love — and thereby 
hangs our column, which is as fol- 

Among those definitely conscript- 
ed are Sis Weller and Mary Kinter, 
wearing jewelry to match. They ■will 
be preceded to the altar by Alumnae 
Pat Brennan and Punky Cook. The 
ION, Frosh) gained ground during 
the summer — with Shirley Clipson- 
Jean Archer — Chappie Chapman- 
Phyl Tross and Frosh Ann McClym- 
onds all displaying the emblem. Add 
Margie Anderson's Yale ring, and the 
jewelry line is complete. 

The career show at Kaufmann's, 
"Please Dress," drafted out gals, M. 
E. Ducey — ^Peg Matheny — Jane Mc- 
Clung — and Jerry Strem. 

Fifth Column reports a rumor that 
PCW vidll soon sport a Coke machine 
for the benefit of thirsty, hardwork- 
ing (?) students . . . Hoping to meet 
youse guys over the Cokes we'll sign 
off until next issue. 

L. M., M. H. 

October 9. 1940 


Page Nine 


Student Awards 

The high C's and low F's were si- 
lent this week while head of music 
depantanertt, Miss Helene Welker, 
announced the winners of the music 
scholarships for the year of 1940- 

Edna Schuh '44 was awarded a 
scholarship of one class lesson a week 
in voice. Alice Wilhelm '44 was 
offered a violin scholarship of one 
private lesson weekly. 

In addition to these scholarships 
given by the school this year a new 
one has been created anonymously 
and Dale Kirsopp '44 was awarded 
this scholarship of one weekly pri- 
vate lesson in voice. 

The music scholarships of the col- 
lege are awarded as they are vacated 
and are kept up by good scholastic 
standing. Announcement of a music 
scholarship is a signal for any stu- 
dent who is interested to make her 
application and have an audition. 

In her article in the September 
issue of the Musical Courier, Miss 
Welker states that, "Work in the 
music department is being reorgan- 
ized and extended so as to offer 
greater scope to students who are 
interested, and it will aim to de- 
velop musical literacy and under- 
standing through listening analysis, 
harmony, and keyboard work." 

Miss Welker wishes to emphasize 
the fact that in addition to the pri- 
vate and class work in voice, piano, 
organ, and violin, instruction in other 
stringed instruments and in the 
woodwinds is included. She also 
states that students who are working 
for honors in music will have indi- 
vidual and intensive study for that 
purpose during the senior year. 

Pittsburgh Opera 

A new venture for Pittsburgh in 
the field of music is the Pittsburgh 
Opera Society. The Society gives Mo- 
zart's hilariously naughty story, 
The Marriage of Figaro, next Tues- 
day and Wednesday evenings at Car- 
negie Music Hall. With a different 
cast each night, PCW junior Claire 
Stewart is in the chorus of both per- 

Able director Vladimir Bakalein- 
ikoff is concert-meister and first cel- 
list of Pittsburgh Symphony Orches- 

According to inside information, 
students can get any seat left empty 
by 8:15 for half-price. Only require- 
ment a card from Miss Mowry. 


Mr. Ralph Lewando last week was 
appointed conductor of the band at 
Duquesne University. Long a familiar 
figure in the Music Department of 
PCW, Mr. Lewando will also teach 
conducting at Duquesne. 


Special Visitor 

From Carolina's Smoky Mountains 
today came three visitors to our 
campus . . . Carroll Barnes, young 
American sculptor, Evangeline 
Barnes, his wife, and Monk, their 
"Scostonhundt"' ... as yet the exact 
nature of a "Scostonhundt" is un- 

Mr. Barnes, here to give a series of 
informal discussions on wood sculp- 
ture, will be a guest of the college 
for several days. 

English Instructor Miss Mary 
Shamburger has arranged this visit 
as an aid to the freshman English 
classes now working on their first 
investigative theme . . . subject: "Na- 
tive American Art." Carnegie Insti- 
tute's Survey of American Painting, 
opening October 24, will add to Mr. 
Barne's talk. 
Comes From Smokies 

Coming directly from his pine-log 
workshop in the Smokies, Mr. Barnes 
brings with him a collection of his 
finished work. Outstanding in this 
collection is the large cherrywood 
figure of Paul Bunyan, which at- 
tracted attention in Washington art 
circles last year. 

The sculptor also has wdth him a 
trailer containing, in addition to the 
"Scostonhundt," some unfinished 
pieces and tools which he will use 
in his demonstrations before the stu- 

Barbara Shupp is chairman of a 
freshman committee appointed to ar- 
range the discussions and conduct a 
tour of Pittsburgh for Mr. and Mrs. 
Barnes. She will be assisted by 
.Jeanne McKeag and Patricia Leon- 

From PCW, the sculptor will go to 
Des Moines Iowa, his former hom_e. 
There twenty-five of his carvings are 
to be exhibited the week of October 


Drama League 

Attention drama enthusiasts! The 
Pittsburgh Drama League invit/ts 
Mr., Mrs. and Miss Pittsburgh to 
participate in a venture new to this 
city, that of enlarging the theatre's 
circle of friends. 
Methods of Presentation 

Via lectures and forums, under the 
able direction of Chairman Vanda 
Kerst, a richly informative program 
has gone down on the schedule sheet. 
Notables to Lecture 

Dramatist, director, and Producer 
Elmer Rice: dramatic critic Rosamond 
Gilder, and Frederick Koch, head of 
Department of Dramatic Art at the 
University of North Carolina, are 
among those to lead the discussions. 
Aims and Values 

( 1 ) To present in a challenging yet 
entertaining manner the chief ques- 
tions of the changing drama today; 
(2) To acquaint you with the pur- 
pose and accomplishments of those 
who are at present responsible for 
the development and preservation of 
the theatre and drama: and (3) To 
enable you to hear a'oout, see, and 
know drama as a soul-awakening as 
well as an entertaining part of life. 

This plan is a contribution to the 
enrichment of our aesthetic life, and 
in these times of national strain and 
stress the cultural ideas of our coun- 
try should not be forgotten. It is with 
this thought in mind that the Pitts- 
burgh Drama League asks the loyal 
and whole-hearted support of all lov- 
ers of the drama and the theatre. 

Children's Play 

This year the speech department is 
going back to an old school tradition 
that of giving a play for children. 
The speech majors will soon start re- 
hearsing the original dramatization 
of an old fairy tale. The name of the 
story has not yet been revealed, but 
we are told that it has never be- 
fore been produced. 

The play is full of humor, danc- 
ing, songs, choruses, music supplied 
by the PCW ensemble, and all sorts 
of things to fascinate children. Not 
only children but their parents will 
enjoy this performance, for it is so- 
phisticated enough for a modern au- 
dience. The high school seniors will 
have an opportunity to see this play 
when they come up this fall to look 
over our college. 

Page Ten 


October 9, 1940 


PCW Poll 

Willkie wins — or maybe we talked 
to the wrong people. 

When confronted with the ques- 
tion: "Willkie or Roosevelt?" the 
faculty members carefully considered 
third terms and foreign policies. 
They then made the unconvincing 
statement that they simply had not 
made up their minds. Some faculty 
miembers diplomatically evaded the 
issue. Dr. Evans said: 

"I'm a liberal. I'm for the best 

Mrs. Shupp stated frankly that she 
was on the fence With strong forces 
pulling lor both sides. Miss Robb 
didn't particularly want either can- 
didate. Dr. Ferguson, offering a con- 
structive argument to chalk one up 
for Mr. Willkie, said: 

"I'm against the third term. We 
need a good business man with a 
level head." 

Others gave their opinions accom- 
panied by dire threats if they were 
quoted. i 

The students (with malice toward 
one or the other) also expressed their 
views concerning the candidates. 
Frances Johnson and Mary Longwell 

"We want Willkie. Win \Vith Will- 

Mocky Anderson seriously explain- 

"I'm in favor of Roosevelt and his 
policies, but I'm not in favor of a 
third term. So I'm for Willkie." 

Barbara Heinz declared: 

"Roosevelt offers a more construc- 
tive policy. We shouldn't change 
presidents in time of war." 

Peggy Matheny said: 

"I'm for Willkie. He's a Beta. Any 
Beta is a good man." 

Mary Boileau said frankly: 

"I have to be for Roosevelt." 

"Willkie is a man who has had 
every day experiences in every walk 
of life, which is so essential for a 
man at the head of the country." 

Mary Evelyn Ducey and Jane Mc- 
Clung stated: 

"Willkie hasn't said a thing that 
Roosevelt hasn't said better." 

Jean McGowan said: 

"Willkie — because I don't want 

Bertha Richards declared: 
"It's my vote, and it's going to be 
for Willkie. He is both a statesman 
and a business man." 

Barbara Maerker said simply: 

"Willkie. I'm awfully tired of 

We questioned several freshmen 
whose sentiments were expressed by 
Mary Roberts and Martha McCul- 
lough Who just shouted: 


J.F., J.M. 


There is a war. Only three thou- 
sand miles away people are in con- 
stant danger of losing their lives. 
All the people. It would be tragic 
enough if only fighting men were be- 
ing killed. But no. Not in this war. 
Women, children, old men, babes in 
arms, all stand an equal chance to 
lose. Lose their lives. Night or day. 
It does not matter. With warning. 
Without. This is no game. It has no 
rules. Even the winner loses. 

I do not know these persons who 
have unwillingly become players in 
the sport of war, participants against 
their choice. None of them is relat- 
ed to me. None of them is my 
friend. There is none whose name 
would mean more to me than that 
of his neighbor. I have no per- 
sonal tie with these people. 

I am under age. I do not have the 
right to vote. I have no say in the 
policies of my government. I may not 
even cast a vote for its head. It is 
not my problem to determine to what 
extent we should become involved 
in this contest, or to suggest the num- 
ber of reserve men ,or the amount 
of munitions we should have ready 
for use. Still less can I state how 
we should effect these requirements 
if such they be. Clearly, no re- 
sponsibility can be placed on my 

Yet, fortunately for civilization, in- 
dividuals cannot remain unaware of 
what is happening to other indi- 
viduals, no matter at what distance. 
I am not able to lay aside these facts 
in some convenient drawer of my 
mind and forget them. They are 
constantly before me. 

These people did not want war. 
Their daughters were in college, too. 
I know that their daughters did not 
want war. If all that is happening 
to them is real, it may become a real- 
ity for me, some day soon. I, also, 
may be thrown into this new and un- 

familiar world. I won't know the 
rules. No one can teach them to 
me. My friends will be going out to 
shoot, to kill. More, they will be 
taught to do this. And whether they 
live, or die, something within them 
must die. No one can live in a 
world of death, and not change. I 
will not know these boys when they 
are metamorphosed into killers. My 
friends, my family, I may be the vic- 
tim of one of the boy-murderers of 
another country. I certainly cannot 
remain aloof to the distress of those 
who are really my fellow selves, just 
because they live across an ocean 
from me. 

The vital question is the one of 
principle. All of my life has been 
keyed to freedom. "Freedom of press, 
speech, etc., etc.," we gliby recite. But 
I realize that if the English do not 
outplay the Germans in this crucial 
strategy, I am in very imminent dan- 
ger of losing all that I have gayly 
taken for granted since my baby 
days. My whole philosophy will be 
changed. "No, no," I cry. "I am 
sure that I do not want a new one." 

What can I do? The radio blasts, 
the screaming headlines. These offer 
no practical solutions. What shall 
we do? 

Arm to the teeth! Military training! 
Of course. But when John goes 
marching off with the rest, my bit- 
ter tears will follow him. I must 
let principle, not personal feelings 
guide me. But yet it will be my war. 
How can I subdue my feelings? It 
will be a hard lesson to learn. I 
shall have to study it for long hours. 
Longer hours than any I spend at 

Somehow I must learn it, somehovv 
. . . sometime . . . soon. 


of a Friend 

October 9, 1940 


Page Eleven 


^ro All-Star Game 

Saturday, September 28, which al- 
o passed under the nom de plume of 
/lountain Day, saw the ushering in 
if the new season in sports with the 
to 1 favorites, the Professionals, 
:oing against the poor, defenseless 
inderdogs, the All-Stars. 

With much care the two teams 
vere cliosen, and the game opened 
vith the Pro team at bat, facing that 
errific battery, Mclntyre and Whel- 
lon. The more experienced Pro team 
;ot off to an early lead due mainly 
o the valiant but vain efforts of the 
nembers of the student team (fur- 
lished through the courtesy of the 
Pittsburgh Bus Corporation) to hang 
in to numerous fly balls. 

Faced by that peerless pair, Kin- 
ler and Wallace, the Stars quivered, 
hen courageously took up the 
;udgels. The stands reverberated 
vith the roar of the crowd, which 
was estimated at a mere 45,000. The 
nnings crept by with the pros still 
n the lead. The stands were slowly 
implying, when in the still dimness 
3f early twilight our All-Stars came 
;o bat in the last half of the last in- 

But then that unbelievable occur- 
rence, the thing that happens only 
in books and Horatio Alger stories, 
iiappened. Bursting with energy 
;and too many hamburgers) the Cam- 
pus AU-Stars pushed the winning 
run over the home plate. 

The heroines were borne off tri- 
umphantly upon the eager shoulders 
of the cheering throngs while the 
Faculty-Pros retreated, muttering 
something about retribution and re- 
venge in '41. 

Scoop: This student victory was 
the first in four years. 

The hurling of Dr. Kinder and Mr. 

The disappearing act done by the 
ball in one of Miss Howell's catches. 

Miss Robb's sprint after a fly. 

The student cry: "You're going to 
get fired." 

Dr. Montgomery's grin after snag- 
ging a shoe-string fly. 


Hoorah For the Red, White and Blue 

Inaugurating a new policy, color 
teams have been formed in hockey. 
This is primarily for the benefit of 
those who have never played before 
and those who haven't played on our 

slightly (?) under-sized field. Don't 
take this literally, you upperclass- 

You will get mucli more practice 
by participating in these games than 
by dribbling a little white ball around 
the field by yourself — besides, it's not 
as lonesome. So we'll be seeing you 
up on the field. 
The Hoping Hole 

Taking the place of the old crystal 
ball we introduce the Hoping Hole 
and we certainly hope. 

Putting ourselves right behind that 
ol' eight-ball seems to be a habit of 
ours, but here we go and pick the 
Rose and White of the sophomore 
class to triumph in a wide-open 
hockey season. We base our predic- 
tion on the luck of the sophomores in 
hockey, for if we remember correct- 
ly, the cup has been annexed by that 
class for the last three years. 

Also, although seriously handicap- 
ped by the loss of B. J. Walters and 
Bizzy Ward, the sophomores seem 
to have more genuine enthusiasm for 
sport this year with more candidates 
for the team than ever before. 

You never can tell about the fresh- 
men and I think that they will give 
the juniors a battle for second place 
honors. The managers of the re- 
spective class teams are: 

Seniors — Ruth Strickland. 

Juniors — Midge Norris. 

Sophomore — Mary Lou Henry. 

Freshman — Ruth Jenkins. 

For Indian Summer 

Rifle, Riding, and Golf 

Starting this week PCW girls will 
have the opportunity to enjoy three 
of the most attractive sports, riding, 
rifle, and golf. 

These perfect Indian summer days 
are invitations to brisl-c canters along 
the excellent bridle paths of North 
Park. Why not join the group of 
horse lovers who go out every week? 
Why not take advantage of these 
lovely autumn days by indulging in 
this exhilerating sport? There is a 
group for experienced riders and one 
for the beginners who require in- 

Although golf lessons are availa- 
ble only in the fall and spring, PCW 
is fortunate in having Mr. McKay, 
pro at Longue Vue Country Club, to 
instruct her golfers. Beginners are 
encouraged to join the class. We 
hope that there will be a large group 
interested either in learning to play 

golf or in bettering their game. 

Rifiery is comparatively new at 
PCW. Last year it was one of the 
most popular sports in the school and 
there are indications that it will be 
even more popular this year. Mr. 
Charleton, top-ranking riflist and 
coach of the championship Munhall 
High School team, is returning again 
to coach us. We aim to develop a 
team good enough to compete with 
other schools and colleges. Come out 
en Tuesday and Thursday afternoons 
for practice in the basement of Berry 

Added Attractions 

With the acquisition of the Mellon 
property our sports situation is look- 
ing up. We now have three tennis 
courts — the one at Mellon Hall be- 
ing a super creation with an all- 
weather surface, floodlights, and a 
badly needed practice board. The 
present courts behind Woodland Hall 
are to be i-emoved and the athletic 
field will be enlarged. 

The splendid swimming pool of- 
fers us the opportunity to go swim- 
ming without having to trudge down 
to Webster Hall. Who knows? We 
might develop a star or three in the 
gang and possibly some day a swim- 
ming team. 

The bowling alleys in Mellon Hall 
should entice those who prefer this 
sport and give the PCW pinsters 
(not punsters) their chance. 

Archery will be more attractive 
than ever this year with the little 
Robin Hoods keeping a running score 
throughout the year. LET'S MAKE 

Our Monthly Reminder — 

Patronize Your Masic Store 


Hacke Building 
207 Fifth Ave. Pittsburgh, Pa. 

SmRPOIieifTSHOP 'Jl&U%&%i 

Pens of best makes $1 to SIO 

Name engraved free on $2.50 up 



Page Twelve 


October 9, 1940 


WHEN IT'S OVER Anne Butler '41 

When the war's over and Joe comes 
back, I want him to come to the door 
and just be standing there like he 
was the first time I ever saw him. 
He won't need to ring or knock or 
anything; I'll know he's there when 
he comes, just like I did then. 

It was funny; for all I know he 
might've been watching me for a 
long time. You know how when 
you'i-e on the street car or some- 
where and somebody looks at you un- 
til you turn around like something 
was pulling you — well, it was some- 
thing like that. Kind of took my 
breath away I guess, because when I 
looked up at him, he said, "Did I 
scare you?" and he laughed sort of 

I said, "No, that's all right, what do 
you want?" I knew he was all right 
with those eyes and all; and he had 
his cap like a uniform. I guess he 
looks wonderful in the army. They 
get everything you know — shoes and 
coats and even their shirts. He takes 
extra in the sleeves, but they take 
care of that I guess. Then I had to 
laugh. He asked me was my mother 
at home. It's funny; the other day 
some peddler came by and asked me 
that, and it made me mad. I wanted 
to slam the door in his face, and cry 
I guess, because ever since mother 
passed away, I can't seem to get over 
feeling sad when I think of it and 
kind of sorry for myself too, about 
me having to stop school and take 
care of the kids— even if I do like to 
help Dad out you know. But any- 
way, when he said, "Is your mother 
home?" I had to laugh because, well, 
how would he know she was — had 
died; and his voice was so nice and 
sort of polite, and he still kept look- 
ing at me — like he thought I was 
pretty or something. 

Well, I didn't know him then. 
That's the first time I ever saw him 
even, but he looked like he might feel 
bad if he saw he'd said the wrong 
thing; so I just said, "I'm the lady of 
the house." Then I almost did get 
mad because I could see from the 
way he pushed his cap back on his 
head — he has real wavy blonde hair 
— I could see that he was surprised, 
like he didn't believe me. After all 
I was over nineteen then. 

While he's still staring, I say, "If 
it's the gas meter, it's in the base- 
ment.' But I knew it wasn't. Those 
fellows go by so quick you'd think 

something was after them. 

By that time I've dried my hands 
I'm washing the dishes, see. It's in 
the morning after the kids have gone 
to school. And I walk over to the 
door — he seems even taller up close; 
I guess I couldn've walked right un- 
der his arm if he'd stood there. But 
he didn't; he kind of shifted around, 
still looking like he can't believe me. 
I guess he's used to seeing — you 
know, older women in the kitchen. 

Anyhow, what he wanted to see me 
about, was giving me a free sample 
from Zinzers'. They were just open- 
ing then. And he said something 
about, "compliments of Zinzer Broth- 
ers' Bread and Baked Goods." Then 
he started to turn around like he was 
leaving. Well, I could see he was 
new, and no salesman ever leaves as 
quick as that; so I said, "Is this some- 
thing new?" I'd read about the new 
bakery in the paper the night before 
of course, but I wanted to help him 
out. I didnt seem to me like he 
ought to go away without trying to 
sell something. I said, "Are you go- 
ing to deliver daily?" I said, "Maybe 
I could use a few rolls for Sunday." 
I always bake on Saturday, but for 
some reason or other I didn't want 
him to go off forgetting what he came 
for. And I guess it worked because 
he turned around kind of quick and 
gave me his sales talk, which I didn't 
listen to, but he said it real nice like 
Jimmy when he's practicing a piece 
for Sunday school. By the way, 
Jimmy won the Oratory on Friday. 
Anyway, the reason I didn't listen to 
the sales talk is that I was listening 
to his voice all the time. When he 
comes back I'm going to have him 
say, "Em'ly," like he calls me, or, 
"little lady of the house." He calls 
me that sometimes too. And I was 
wondering why his eyes had quit 
boring holes through me. I thought 
maybe when he saw me near he 
didn't think I was so pretty or some- 
thing. And I thought, "Gosh, I bet 
my nose is shiny." But later I found 
out that I guess that didn't bother 
him any. It was something else. 

It turned out that I ordered a 
dozen rolls. The kids always eat two 
apiece, and that leaves enough for 
their Monday lunches. And then he 
says, "Thank you, Mrs. Martin." See, 
they get a list of the names on the 
street beforehand — to make it more 
friendly, Joe says. So before I can 

say anything, he's off, down the steps, 
tipping his hat, and saying, "Good 

Well, I didn't think much about it. 
It was sort of cool so I got in off the 
porch, and for some reason or other, 
I went back to look in the mirror. 
I have a little mirror fixed up in the 
pantry with a little shelf, with hand 
lotion and all. After all, I don't want 
to look like a housewife yet — not as 
long as I can get Joe to look at me 
like he does. It was all right I guess, 
but I was sort of embarrassed when 
I saw my dress was unbuttoned pret- 
ty low — not like some you see — but 
you know how you do when you're 
hot. And I could see my nose was 
shiny, but my cheeks were pink and 
I did have a little lipstick on. Any- 
way, what did I care how I looked 
for some bakery boy? 

But I did care I guess. Saturday, 
that was two days later, I'm standing 
by the window waiting for some 
water to boil, when I see the truck, 
you know, from the bakery, going 
by on Maple. You can see right 
across the alley between McKensies' 
and Barrs'. Well, for some reason 
when I see it, a kind of streak goes 
through me, and my heart turns up- 
side-down and I think maybe it's be- 
cause I didn't have lunch; but then it 
passes, and I go in and fix my hair 
and powder my nose, to freshen up a 
bit, you know. Then I go back and 
start mixing some icing for the cake. 
As I said, it was Saturday, and I al- 
ways bake on Saturday. So when I 
hear him on the steps, I just let him 
come on up, and he calls out, "Zin- 
zers," and I say, "O. K., put 'em 
here." But I don't look up. And all 
the time I can feel him looking at me 
that way. So I'm glad I straightened 
the seams of my stockings. You 
know! I like to feel kind of dainty, 
because I'm not really a housewife 
yet. I 

Well, that day he starts to go on 
away without saying much; but when 
I look up it seems like I can feel his 
eyes turn off like a light, and he just 
acts like some of Jimmy's friends 
coming in with Jimmy for a piece of 
sugar bread. You know how they 
do, like they were scared of you or 
something. I thought maybe some- 
thing was the matter; he did look 
kind of tired. He looks real sweet 
when he's tired like you wanted to 
pat him or something. I guess they 
work you hard in the army. But he 
can take it, I'll say that. So I said, 

October 9, 1940 


Page Thirteen 


"Would you like a sample of my 
baking?" See, the way he said to 
me the first time, from Zinzers. He 
kind of laughed and he said, "Would 
I!" So I said, "What are you waiting 
for?" and I handed him a fresh piece 
of cake with a little icing on it, and I 
look up at him then. But he's gone 
before you could wink your eye, and 
I can't understand it. After all, the 
first time he seemed kind of inter- 
ested. You know what I mean! 

About three months went by before 
I found out what was wrong. Was I 
dumb! Oh well, it's all right now. 
But anyway, I ordered pretty regular 
from him — rolls for Sunday, wheat 
bread and so forth. And he seems 
about the same, like I said, sort of 
embarrassed and shy, except when 
my back is turned; then I think he's 
looking at me that way, and it's my 
turn to be a little embarrassed. But 
I don't show it. 

So we got to talking pretty friend- 
ly. 1 asked him how was the com- 
pany doing and he says about how 
it's a nice day and all, and I found 
out how he lives in a boarding house 
in town and how he doesn't even 
have a girl, much less any folks. And 
I remember once I said something 
about the children liking the new 
health bread, and he says, "Chil- 
dren!" and I say, "Sure, you didn't 
think I ate all those things by myself 
did you?" And then we both laugh- 
ed. But I do remember he looked at 
me and stared, with his hat on the 
back of his head like he couldn't fig- 
ure something out. He looks nice 
that way. I guess in the army they 
make you keep your hat on straight. 

Things kept on the same, and even 
when I decided he didn't even no- 
tice me anymore, except as a friend, 
you know, I couldn't help sort of 
noticing when the truck went by on 
Maple. And it always seemed like 
that was sort of a signal for me to 
freshen up a bit, like I said. After 
all I don't want Rose coming in with 
her friends and being ashamed of her 
sister. Well, to tell you the truth, I 
might as well've sat down to read the 
paper until I heard those steps com- 
ing Up the porch for all the work I 
got done after I saw the truck. Be- 
cause for some reason or other, I just 
fiddled; so pretty soon on those aft- 
ernoons I started doing a something 
simple like fixing a bowl of flowers 
or polishing the silver. Then when I 
feel him standing there, I'm right in 
the middle of it, see, with my back 
turned to the door. 

Now here's the best part. When I 
think of it, how close it was, like in 
a movie when you want to tell the 
hero that a rock's about to fall on 
his head, but he just goes right on, 
riding under it. So one day Joe came 
in and instead of hurrying out again 
after a few words like he usually 
does, he says, "Could I sit down a 
minute? I'm kind of dizzy." and I 
say, "Sure, you do look a little pale." 
I say, 'M'aybe it's the heat. I'll give 
you some spirits to pep you up." 
Then I nearly died. He says, "Oh 
no, thank you, Mrs. Martin, I never 
touch liquor, not even for medicine." 
See he thinks I mean whiskey. And 
you know that's one thing I like 
about Joe; I'll never have to worry 
about his coming in d.unk. But any- 
way, at that I start to laugh. I say, 
'"Joe, I don't mean whiskey; I mean 
aromatic spirits of ammonia." And 
I show him the bottle. But then I 
begin to think and I notice how he 
said, "No thank you Mrs. Martin." 
And I see it all. Then I'm almost as 
dizzy as he is. But while I'm think- 
ing, when he sees me pour the spirits 
out in a spoon, he opens his mouth 
and closes his eyes just like little 
Bobby does when he has to take 
something. So instead of handing 
him the spoon, I just pour it down 
his throat, and I say, "Down the 
hatch!" and he must not have ever 
had any spirits before, because I hope 
I never see such a face as he made. 

Then when I see he's recovered, I 
say, "But Joe, I'm not Mrs. Martin," , 
with the accent on the Mrs., "I'm 
Emily, Joe." I called him Joe all the 
time by then. Well, I wish you 
could've seen him. I told him about 
Mother and how the kids were my 
brothers and sister, and all. He just 
said, "Oh!" and he gulped and jump- 
ed up and said, "I gotta be going 
now, it's late." And then just as he 
was leaving and I was standing there 
with the spoon in my hand, he turned 
around and looked at me that old 
way, until my knees almost gave out 
under me, and he said, "Good-bye, 

Em'ly" — like my name tasted good to 

him or something — "and thanks for 
the spirits." 

So that's how it all happened. And 
all I can say is that men sure are 
funny. You'd think he could have 
told that I liked him and all, but af- 
terwards he just said he used to won- 
der and wonder how I could be a 
housewife and have kids when I 
looked so young, and he said, 

You see, after he got his promotion 
and started coming over to see me at 
night, he used to tell me things like 
that. It was nice. We used to talk 
and sometimes he'd read to me after 
the kids were in bed and Dad had 
gone up to finish the paper. And he'd 
bring his socks over for me to darn. 
I could go through a basket of darn- 
ing faster when he was talking to me 
than I don't know what. I guess it's 
all right to tell you; you know we 
were really engaged. He had a little 
ring of his mother's that he put on 
my finger just before he left, "To 
have something pretty to dream 
about," he said. But he wouldn't let 
me wear it while he was gone be- 
cause he said he didn't want to spoil 
my life. As I said, men sure are 
funny, because if he thinks I could 
ever fall for anybody else — he's 

It'll be just the same when he 
comes back as it ever was. That's 
why I always try to look nice even 
in the kitchen because, like I said, I 
want him to come back and just be 
standing there in the door, saying, 
"Hello, Em'ly," like he does. 

Our Advertisers j 


6010 Penii Avenue 

MOntrose 2144 

Page Fourteen 


October 9, 1940 



Marden Armstrong ^42 

There was a strained metallic click 
as the lock broke off, and the soft, 
sliding noise of a window being 
opened. The man raised himself over 
the sill, and jumped quietly to the 
floor. He glanced nervously about 
him, and blinked his strange, pink- 
lidded eyes. His breathing became 
quieter, he walked across the room 
with quick, jerky movements, like a 

Quiet! He must be quiet. So 
quiet that the room itself would not 
be aware of his presence. So quiet 
that when the shopkeeper came down 
in the morning and asked the room 
if anyone had been there, the room 
would answer "no." And yet, the 
little porcelain bird would be gone. 
The shopkeeper would be puzzled. 
The room would not understand, for 
it would have heard nothing. Yes, 
he would be so quiet that even the 
room would not hear. The man 
chuckled to himself. 

He approached the dingy desk, 
which stood with its back to the side 
wall of the little shop. Then softly 
pulling from his pocket a bunch of 
keys, he knelt before the desk, and 
began trying to open the drawers. A 
small flashlight lay beside him, cut- 
ting through the darkness with a 
broad, white beam. 

Damn! The key was stuck. He 
might have known better than to 
try that little key, that curious little 
key from his mother's jewel box. He 
had gathered up all of the keys in the 
house — with absolutely no exception. 
One of them would fit the desk 
•where the owner of the antique shop 
kept the little porcelain bird. There 
■were so many keys that one was sure 
to fit. 

He had to get the little bird this 
■way — there was no other. He had 
seen it — a heron made from white 
porcelain — when he had come to the 
antique shop a month ago with his 
mother, to buy a table for their sum- 
mer home. He always went every- 
where with his mother, even though 
he was thirty. She was the only^one 
■who could handle him. 

When they had sent him off to the 
big white place they called a sanata- 
rium, and put him in a room filled 
with people who did queer things, 
like combing their hair all of the 
time, or pacing the floor, he had 
screamed and scratched and sobbed 

until they had finally let him go back 
to his mother. 

To be sure, his mother's friends 
thought him mad. He knew that full 
well, and he snorted. Fools! it was 
they who were mad, not he. When 
he was with his mother he was quite 
content. He liked her cool voice and 
soft clothe.s. He liked especially her 
furs. He would smooth them with 
his big hand, and his mother would 
smile at him and pat his head, as if 
he were a little boy. 

But, sometimes, when his mother 
was not around; when the first guests 
were wandering through the great 
drawing-i-ooms, he loved to creep up 
quietly, and soundly slap one of the 
ladies on her fat, broad back. He 
would laugh to see her jump and 
choke, and hear her scream, and see 
a light of terror in her eyes. The 
other guests would cringe, and be 
silent, while the butler ran off to 
find his mother. 

She would come in then, all cool 
and soft, and put her arm around 
him, and apologize for his behavior. 
Then they would all go into dinner. 

Then there was that day he had 
chased one of the maids with a steak 
knife. He hadn't wanted to hurt her. 
He had just wanted the tip of her lit- 
tle finger, because it was so much 
like one of his mother's pink pearls. 
She hadn't understood, and his moth- 
er had been very angry. But then 
the maid left, and everything was all 
right. His mother loved him again. 

Yes, his mother would have given 
him the money to buy this little bird. 
But then it really wouldn't have been 
his. He must work for it. It was too 
great a prize to be gained so easily. 
It would be a thing to handle, and to 
look at, and to dream about for many 
years. And so he decided to take it. 
He cunningly questioned the shop- 
keeper, and learned where he kept 
the little bird. Then he carefully 
laid his plans. 

First he bought a flashlight — it was 
dark in the small shop even in the 
daytime, and he knew that he would 
need a light. His mother did not 
question him when he told her that 
he wanted the light. It would amuse 
him, and that was enough. 

Secondly, he collected the keys. 
This took many days, for the house 
was large, and there was always the 
possibility of meeting one of the 

maids. It would never do for them 
to know about his longing for the 
little bird. No one must know, not 
even his beloved mother. It was to 
be his alone. 

That morning at three o'clock, he 
got up, and put on his newest suit 
and his shoes. Then taking his hat 
and his gloves, his flashlight and his 
his keys, he walked swiftly down the 
great staircase and out of the door, 
He would take a taxi. He had seen 
his mother do it. 

It was very dark, and very cold, 
but he did not notice it. He was in- 
tently watching for a cab. Shortly 
one came down the street, and he 
hailed it by jumping up and down 
and shouting. The cab pulled over 
and stopped, and the driver called, 

"Hop in." 

The man fumbled with the handle. 
Curse the thing! How did it work? 
The driver, seeing his difficulty, 
crawled out from behind the wheel, 
"damn drunks ..." 

He had given the driver an address 
about a block from the shop. He 
chuckled at his cleverness. When 
the cab finally stopped, he got out 
and carefully paid the driver. Then 
he walked until the cab disappeared. 
He had made his way to the back of 
the shop, easily pryed loose the rust- 
ed lock, and climbed in through the 

And here he was, on the brink of 
success, with the little white bird 
almost in his hands, and the key was 
stuck in the lock. He was thwarted. 
He became furious. With a mighty 
pull, he tore the key and lock out 
with a splintering and cracking of 
wood. The drawer shot out, hitting 
him full in the chest, its impact send- 
ing him crashing to the floor. 

In a few seconds the big bulb 
swinging from the center of the ceil- 
ing flashed on, and a minute later the 
shopkeeper, a wizened old man in a 
bro-wnstriped nightshirt entered the 
room from the doorway which led to 
his rooms above. His thin lips part- 
ed slightly, showing yellow teeth. 

The man on the floor leaped to his 
feet. The shopkeeper must never 
know about the heron. No one must 
ever know. There was only one way. 
He quickly lifted an antique sword 
from its peg on the wall, and ad-, 
vanced toward the old man. Before 
the latter could do so much as cry out 

October 9, 1940 


Page Fifteen 


the heavy steel hilt of the sword de- 
scended upon his head, crushing his 
skull with a crunching sound. Again 
and again the hilt lifted and fell, lift- 
ed and fell until there was nothing 
but a bloody pulp where the head 
had been. 

Exhausted, the man let the sword 
fall. Ah! now the shopkeeper would 
never know. No one would ever 
know. He smiled as he walked over 
to the drawer and began searching 
eagerly through it until he found the 
little bird. His eyes lit up, and he 
crooned a tuneless song as his fingers 
ran caressingly over the white por- 

Then suddenly a thought occurred 
to him. Suppose something in the 
shop had seen him take the little 
bird. Suppose that smirking china 
doll with the leather arms and frilled 
dusty dress had seen him. It would 
never do, never. Still clutching the 
heron, he strode over to the doll on 
the shelf and frowned down on it. 

"I didn't take it," he thundered. 
"What would I want with a little 
white bird? I didn't take it. You 
know that, don't you?" 

The doll smiled a serene painted 

"Damn you!" screamed the man, 
and he picked up the doll and hurled 
it against the wall. The head shat- 
tered in a thousand pieces and the 
painted mouth disappeared. Saw- 
dust trickled from the torn leather 

"That will make you forget." 

He looked wildly around him at 
the shelves of old plates and vases. 

"I'll make you forget too," he 

And he began to grasn them two 
by two, and smash them on the floor, 

"Now no one will ever know." 

There was a quiet scraping as 
someone clirribed in through the still 
open window. The policeman on the 
beat had seen the light and heard 
the noise. The madman stopped for 
a moment in his orgy of destruction. 
Wheeling around, he came face to 
face with the officer. 

"I didn't take it," he screamed, and 
reached for the sword which lay by 
the battered body of the shopkeeper. 
"I didn't take it." 

The officer's mace fell heavily upon 
his head. He dropped unconscious to 
the floor, and lay there amid the 
shattered china. 


The following are the day students: 
Virginia Alexander, Turtle Creek; 
Norma Bailey, McKeesport; Gladys 
Bistline, Wilkinsburg; Jane Blattner, 
Wichester Thurston; Barbara Cald- 
well, Edgewood; Jane Case, Wilkins- 
burg; Marion Cohen, Peabody; 
Jeanne Condit Mt. Lebanon; Bar- 
bara Cooper W,illiam Woods Junior 
College: A-'da OeBellis, Westinghouse; 
Anna Mae Devlin, South Hills; Anne 
Exline, Greensburg; Ruth Firmin, 
Crafton! Portia Geyer, Taylor Alder- 
aderdice; Evelyn Glick, Schenley; 
Virginia Ghay, South Hills; Louisia 
Green, Oakmont. 

Margaret Griffith, Bellevue; Aman- 
da Harris, Winchester-Thurston; 
Marjorie Harter, Winchester-Thurs- 
ton; Katherine Anne Horn, Notre 
Dame Academy; Martha Elizabeth 
Hunt, South Hills; Mary Janet Hy- 
land, Georgetown Visitation Convent: 
Nellie Ireland, Penn High School; 
Florence Jardini, Brentwood; Ruth 
Jenkins, Alderdice; Phyllis Jones, 
Langley; Donna Mae Kindle, Lang- 
ley; Dale Kirsopp, Mt. Lebanon; Ruth 
Laird, Avenworth; Norma Lewis. 
Dormont; Louise Love, Perry; Ruth 
Lynch, Crafton; Helen Mackie, Pea- 
body; Shirley Mays, Dormont; Suz- 
anne McClean, Wilkinsburg; Sally 
Meanor, Wilkinsburg; Constance 
Meyer. Connecticut; Leona Painter, 
McKeesport; Frances PoUick, Mt. 
Mercy Academy; Nancy Jane Raup, 
West View; Mary Louise Reiber, 
Winchester-Thurston; Mary Roberts, 
Brentwood; Miriam Rosenbloom, Al- 
derdice; Mary Ruth Sampson, South 
Hills; Edna Schuh, South Hills: 
Charlotte Schultz, Mt. Lebanon; and 
Mary Janic Schalb, Winchester- 

Lillian Sheasby, Somerset; Barbara 
Shupp, Peabody; Barbara Somers, 
Stevens; Gertrude Strem, Alderdice; 
Adelyne Supowitz, Alderdice; Justine 
Swan, Linden Hall; Elizabeth Warn- 

er, Winchester-Thurston; Winifred 
Watson, Wilkinsburg; Barbara Weil, 
Alderdice; Ruth Weston, Winchester- 
Thurston; Matilda Wilcox, Wilkins- 
burg; Jane Wilmot, Penn Hall; Eliz- 
abeth Shaler. 

The House girls are: Jean Bacon, 
Strong Vincent; Joan Bender, New 
Cumberland; Joan Bowdle, Aven- 
worth; Ruth Bristor, Connecticut Col- 
lege; Margaret Browne, Har-Brack; 
Agnes Conner, Coatesville; Betsy 
Conover, Miami University; Peggy 
Craig, Avenworth; Elizabeth Esler, 
Tarentum; Nancy Lou Filer, Mercer; 
Sally Frick, Northern High School; 
Evelyn Fulton, Bellevue; Betty Gold- 
stein, Linden Hall; Margaret Good, 
Somerset; Betsy Gordon, Brentwood; 
Jean Gray, West View; Martha Har- 
lan, Mt. Lebanon; Helen Hersperger, 
Bellevue; Betty Johnescu, Wilkins- 
burg; Mary Jane Jordan, Hill Side 
School; and Naomi Lankford, Mar- 

Dorcas Leibold, Baldwin School; 
Patricai Leonard, Peabody; Barbara 
Mathews, New Castle; Nancy Max- 
well, Southmont; Ann McClymonds, 
Wilkinsburg; Martha McCullough, 
Alderdice; Jeanne McKeag, Pawhus- 
ka; Marion Monks, Clairton; Jean- 
nette Myers, Wilson; Dorothy Ridge, 
McKeesport; Jean Rigaumont. Aider- 
dice; Nancy Ritchy, Bellevue; Jane 
Ruch, Sewanhaka; Jessie Shock, 
Hood College; Yvonne da Silva, Uni- 
versity of Rio de Janerio; Helen 
Smith, Mercer; Betty Spierling, Law- 
rence Park; Marion Springer, Mt. 
Lebanon; Nancy Stauffer, Ambridge; 
Roberta Stuart, M. I. T.; Janet Swan- 
son, Youngsville; Ann Walker. Ar- 
lington Hall: Joyce Wallis, Edgewood 
Park Junior College: Alice Marion 
Wilhelm, Olivet College: Patricia 
Wright, Winchester-Thurston; Vir- 
ginia Crouch, Grove City, and Helen 
Jane Taylor, Bethany. 

a a 



I Corsages 


§ CHurchill 0373 


Cut Flowers - - Decorations 

812 Wood Street 

Page Sixteen 


October 9, 1940 


. . . continued from page 6 

hensives and Commencement honors. 

The following is an outline of the 
plan which, it is hoped, may make 
that relationship clear. 

There are to be two types of Com- 
mencement honors, beginning in 
June, 1941, with the graduation of 
the present senior class. 

A. Special Honors — 

In order to be awarded this type 
of honois, a student must do a 
special piece of investigation in a 
given field under the direction of 
a faculty member. 
For this work she is allowed six 
hours' credit per semester. 
She must take a comprehensive 
in the field of her subject. 
She must submit a paper covering 
the results of her investigation. 
She must also pass an oral exam- 
ination in her special field. 
If this project is satisfactorily 
completed, she may be awarded 
special honors in chemistry, his- 
tory, French, as the case may be. 
Members of the senior class who 
have been permitted to undertake 
special honors work this year are 
May Oettinger, Mary Rodd, and 
Susan Wooldridge in chemistry, 
Jeanne-Anne Ayres in English, 
and Jean McGowan in mathe- 
matics. Mary Linn Marks was 
also g: anted permission to do spe- 
cial honors work in history, but 
was forced to withdraw on ac- 
count of ill health. 

B. General Honors — 

This is the type of honors which 
has in the past been awarded at 
Commencement time on the basis 
of a certain weighted average of 
the grades received in course 
work during the four years. In 
June, 1941, this type of honors 
will not be awarded to any stu- 
dent who has not also passed a 
comprehensive examination to be 
administered by the department in 
which she has been a major. That 
is, the Commencement award is to 
be based on a positive achieve- 
ment by the student, as shown by 
her performance in the compre- 
hensive, as well as on her per- 
formance in courses, as shown by 
her grades. 

Preparation for this comprehen- 
sive is to be made in a seminar, 
administered by each department, 
which will meet once each week 
and will offer one credit per se- 
Any student in the senior class, or 




/ There are a lot of things to do when 

you go to a game — a check-up to be 

made on tickets and reservations, 

<^ meeting places to be arranged. 

You can make all your arrangements 
quickly, easily, and at little cost by Long 

Rates on most Long Distance calls 
are reduced every night after 7 
and all day Sunday. 

The JBell Telephone CpmpanY of PenrisYlvania 

in the junior class if her major 
depai'tment so advises, may take 
the seminar as a method of re- 
viewing and correlating her work 
in her major field. She may also 
be asked to attend a seminar in a 
field correlating with her major. 
She may take the seminar without 
taking the comprehensive, if she 

She may not take the comprehen- 
sive without taking the seminar. 
A student doing special honors may 
possibly receive both special and 
general honors; she may receive one, 
or neither. A student who is not 
doing special honors is eligible only 
for general honors. 

Tropic Scene 

Tall, cool palms dip 
And white-feathered waves sing. 
The sun slides down the sky 
Casting long thin shadows. 

Across the pearl-smooth beach 

A ragged figure shuffles, 

His bare toes are making 

Little holes in the sand. 

He stoops to pick up 

A rotting fish. , 

"Look mama!" 

Cries a neat little girl 

From a great screened veranda — 

"Look — there's the sandman!" 

— Marden Armstrong '42. 



Johnston The Florist 

MOntrose 7777 

5841 FORBES ST. 
HAzel 1012 

Vol. XX 

Pennsylvania College for Women, Pittsburgh, Pa., November 5, 1940 

No. 2 


"Busiest in Political History . . .' 
(See People) 

Page Two 


November 5, 1940 


Pennsylvania College for Women 
Pittsburgh, Pa. 

Subscription ii^l.OO per year in advance 


National Advertising Service, Inc. 

College Publishers Representative 
420 Madison Ave. New York. N. Y. 


Editorial Staff 

„ „,.. (Jo Anne Healy '41 

Co-Editors (Jeanne-Anne Ayres '41 

Business Manager Betty Bacon '41 

News Editor Dottie Lou Evans '42 

Assistant News Editor Marion Lambie '43 

Features Editor Jean Burchinal '42 

Sports Editor Janet Ross '43 

Assistant Sports Editor Pliyllis Keister '42 

r.„_,, TJitn^ (Claire Stewart '42 

Copy Editors {Bertha Richards '41 

Make-up Editor Peggy Jane Wragg '43 

Assistant Make-up Editor Mildred Stewart '42 

Copy Readers [Sr°'^'"5^'''l:, ^'^P^"* '.^l 

j Mary K. Strathearn 42 

raculty Adviser Hazel C. Shupp 

m • , JClaire Horowitz '42 

•^^^^ IMildred Stewart '43 

News Staff 

Marjorie Malanos '43. Jane Wilmot '42. Claire Horowitz '43, Mary 
Anne Mackey '42, Jane Brooks '43, Joyce WaUis '42, Mary Jane 
Barter '42. Jean Sweet '43, Miriam Rosenbloom '44, Mary Schwalb 
'44, Nancy Jane Maxwell '44. Charlotte Schultz '44. Jean Condit '44, 
Jane Blatner '44. 

Feature Staff 

Louise Mclntyre, Margaret Higgins, Dorothy Vale, Jean Faris, Jean 
Miller. Anne K. Driver, Helen R. Moore. Ruth Laird, Marden Arm- 
strong, Ann McClymonds, Nancy Ritchey. Nancy Stauf=fer, Sally 
Frick. Margaret Griffith, Margaret Malanes, Jean Gray, Jane Zach- 
arias, Mary Lou Henry, Althea Lowe, Jane McCall, Margaret An- 
derson, Dorothy Vale. 

Business Staff 

Alison Croft '42, Jane Fitzpatrick '43, Eleanor Garrett '42, Virginia 
Hendryx '43, Margaret Hibbs '42. Alice McKain '42, Ruth Pat- 
ton '42, Louise Rider '43, Anna Betty Saylor '42, Margaret Schar 
'43, Elizabeth Shipley '42, Mildred Stewart '42, Gloria Silverstein '42. 

Political Policy 

PCW Poll 


Roosevelt 19 

Willkie ...\^.^. 14 

- Total number of faculty polled 33 


Senior Junior Sophomore Freshman Total 

Willkie 34 49 44 72 119 

Roosevelt 8 10 26 16 60 

Thomas 1 . . . . 1 

It is difficult, on the eve of an election, to present a 
political editorial. And yet we feel that it is necessary 
to clarify our policy before the results of that election 
are determined. Although the sentiment of the school 
which we represent is predominantly Republican, that 
it is more predominantly American was demonstrated by 
the program of the mock election which culminated in 
last night's political rally. During the weeks of prepara- 
tion for that mock election, PCW students forgot party 
affiliations to unite under the banners of the parties dele- 
gated to their respective classes — going into all branches 
of American politics to find material for their candidates. 
In so doing, they were able to realize more fully the 
aims — to evaluate more completely the importance of the 
various trends of political thought now prevelant in the 
United States. Carried on with traditional Yankee sense 
of the ludicrous, underlined by a very real sense of the 
serious, this convention could have happened in no other 
country in the world. 

Concerning the efforts of misinformed persons to dis- 
tort the meaning and to misinterpret the fundamental 
significance of the PCW mock election, we can only say 
that we as students realize the necessity of complete 
intellectual freedom. We will not, like the ostrich, bury 
our heads in the sands of ignorance, and think that by 
disregarding an evil, it shall thereby cease to exist. 

As for the national election, the Arrow, representing 
PCW Americans, will support whichever party is today 
elected by the people to govern. 

Total number of students polled. 


High School Level 

PCW has joined the ranks of the higli scliools in its 
political speakers. Perhaps we are not all unemotional 
about our political views but in any case, it is to 
be lioped, we are capable of understanding more 
than a twelve-year old, or even an average fifteen- 
year old can. We go to chapel hoping, even naively ex- 
pecting an adult, reasonable argument for one party or 
another. Mr. Corbett did not do the Republicans justice. 
He did not do us justice. Basing his entire speech on 
haclviieyed phrases and destructive criticism, he failed 
to place before us the fundamental issues of the Repub- 
lican party. Tlie speecli succeeded in arousing our emo- 
tional prejudices, but it certainly did not lead to intelli- 
gent thought or, even less, to conversion. Dr. McKay 
perhaps gave us a more intellectual argument. But he 
addressed his speech "to our parents." Which was, to 
say the least, unfortunate. There actually are girls of 
voting age in PCW. Maybe we all look young from the 
speaker's platform — even "too young to remember 1932." 

It is hard to believe that political speakers are not 
available who could at least have an equal balance of 
oratorical ability and appeal to the intelligent reasoning 
power of PCW girls. Over the radio there are few 
IDolitical speeches which are not paid for by one of the 
parties, which do not appeal largely to the emotions of 
the masses. If PCW students cannot find within their 
own walls a higher level of political speech, addressed to 
them as intelligent adults, where else can they look for it? 

November 5, 1940 


Page Three 



Mock Election 

Last night PCW roused all of 
Squirrel Hill from its pre-election- 
day stupor by staging a campaign of 
its own. The Torchlight Parade — 
purged of its more subversive ele- 
ments — gaily displayed banner and 
bunting-covered cars. Motor-cycle 
cops guarded President Roosevelt 
from fifth column Communists 
who might still be lurking around in 
disguise. WPA and CCC workers, the 
Solid South, were represented. Near- 
ly all cars had patriotic crepe paper 

Back in the Convention Hall 
everybody sang, "God Bless Amer- 
ica" — even the Communists, who had 
rallied by now in overwhelming 
numbers, shouting down all other 
parties. Biggest shock came when 
Vice-Presidential Candidate Ford 
(Jean Sweet) turned out a negro 
Roosevelts En Masse 

The Roosevelts came en masse — ■ 
the first family reunion since F. D.'s 
second term. Eleanor (Jane Chant- 
ler) appropriately wore Eleanor blue 
gown, trimmed in dubonnet. almost 
smothered in pearls. Mrs. Sara Del- 
ano, Anna, all the sons, Sistie and 
Buzzie more than filled their share 
of special box. Henry Wallace (Joyce 
Wallis), Mayor LaGuardia, Mayor 
Scully were Democratic guests of 
honor. Then there were endless oth- 
er followers, representing all classes 
— Harvard students, WPA workers. 
Housing Project and armament 
Republican Rally 

Not to be outdone, the Republi- 
cans rallied forth with McNary 
(Elizabeth Warner), Al Smith's 
bro\vn derby and cigar, John L. 
Lewis' eyebrows, Dewey's moustache. 
All the laboring class was there, 
farmers, and — to everyone's surprise 
— big business men. Mrs. Willkie 
wore a gay light green gown brown 
beaver jacket, tiny hat, and an or- 
chid. Republicans hurled confetti 
streamers everywhere, lassoed some 
hopeful converts to the party. 

Prohibitionists' biggest group were 
WCTU women, wearing bold ribbons 
across shirt fronts. Socialists were 
most consistent party — all represent- 
ed intellectuals. 
Candidates Campaign 

Next event was most exciting. Can- 
didates drew for order of speecnes. 
Communjst Browder (Lorraine Wolf) 

was introduced — with life history — 
by Janet Ross. Eight minutes of wild 
parading followed with songs: "Down 
Witli Everything" and "The Ladies 
In Red." 

Socialist Candidate Norman Thom- 
as (Mary Kinter,) introduced by Jo 
Anne Healey, slung least mud of all 
the conventioners. In parade follow- 
ing slogans like "Handshakes Across 
the Globe" and "Carrying Of the 
Torch," were dramatized. Color-day 
pep song tune was used for "Oh Mr. 
Phi Bete, Will You Tell Us Who's 
Your Ideal Candidate?" 

Republican Joe Martin (Charlotte 
Schultz) introduced Willkie (Ruth 
Laird). Main song in parade follow- 
ing was "We Must Have Willkie This 
Term." Also — "The Deinocrats They 
Ain't What They Used To Be," to 
tune of "The Old Gray Mare." 

Roosevelt (Mai-y Emma Hirsch) 
was introduced by National Chair- 
man Mocky Anderson. Favorite Dem- 
ocratic song was "Franky and Hanky 
Are Teammates." All parade dein- 
cnstrations were called to a halt by 
uniformed Sergeant-at-Arms. 

Biggest surprise came when Com- 
munist alarm clocks went off after 
Prohibition candidate Babson (Dr. 
Montgomery) started tall'dng. 

Laughs were kept going by the 
active little donkey (Marjorie Hig- 
gins). Dorothy Thompson and Gal- 
lup (Miss Caulkins) were there too — 
Dorothy in her reversible. Even 
Gracie Allen (Jane Hanauer) sang 
her canipaign song. 
Free Beer 

Some who were under the influence 
of the Democratic beer promise 
thought they saw Carrie Nation's 
ghost — hatchet and all. But then it 

Pool Open! 

At a meeting of the Council 
yesterday, objections by certain 
members of the Woodland Road 
Association to the re-zoning of 
the Mellon property were with- 
drawn. As a result, the Mellon 
property is now available for col- 
lege use, and at 2:30 this afternoon 
(Tuesday. November 5) Dr. Spen- 
cer will conduct a tour of inspec- 
tion of the swimming pool, bowl- 
ing alleys and gi-ounds of the An- 
drew Mellon Hall. Students and 
faculty are invited to attend this 
informal claiming of the Andrew 
Mellon gift as an integral part of 

may only have been the inebriate 
(Mr. Collins), who was every place 
at once and in everybody's hair. 
Much ignored by the Prohibitionists, 
he won many converts to the party. 

Due to the beer-can clean-up in 
Elwood, Ind., being so tremendous, 
there was a ruling that a milk-bar 
was only thirst-quencher allowed. 
Prohibitionist bar-tender Dr. Evans 
came into her own. 

Last event of the evening was the 

Convention chairman Dr. Spenser 
and unnamed committee heroes de- 
served big vote of thanks from all 

V ice-P resilient 

There was an undercurrent of ex- 
cited suspense one evening a few 
weeks ago in a suite at Hotel Wil- 
liam Penn. The Mayor, politicians, 
reporters, photographers, an Arrow 
representative all waited for the ar- 
rival of one man. That man was 
Democratic Vice-Presidential Nom- 
inee Henry A. Wallace. He was late. 
Telephone calls buzzed back and 
forth, telegrams were continually 
coming in. Everyone was restless, 
roaming around the room, talking in 
low undertones, telling funny stories, 
discussing politics, joking with Mr. 
Scully about his chasing an escaped 
prisoner a few days belore. The taUi 
was casual, but excitement ran swift- 
ly beneath the surface. 

Judge M. A. Musmanno came in. 
His startlingly vital personality im- 
mediately fired the room ro a high- 
er pitch. He had thick brown hair 
which hung long over his ears, and 
as the evening advanced, became in- 
creasingly mussed. His expressive 
eyebrows were always in action, re- 
flecting his thoughts. 
The Man With Charm 

When asked if there is any chance 
of Roosevelt's resigning after being 
elected, Musmanno pushed out his 
lips deprecatingly and shook his head. 
"No, no, no, not a chance in the 
world." He described Roosevelt as 
"radiating charm. He is brilliant with 
an intelligence and awareness of all 
things." Judge Musmanno also told 
Arrow representative that Roosevelt 
may have aged in hair and wrinkles, 
but not in his eyes or his expression. 

Meanwhile things were happening 
in the hotel room. Someone at the 
telephone said, "The Secretary's just 
leaving Wilkinsburg." 

Later came the report: "He's com- 

Page Four 


November 5, 1940 


ing down Grant St.!" Sirens scream- 
ed in from a distance and died down 
to a stop in front of tlie Hotel. In 
another minute a man stepped into 
the room and announced; 

"Secretary Wallace is coming." 
Everyone paused in his conversa- 
tion and all eyes turned toward the 

Undramatic Entrance 

A little bustle of electrified inter- 
est surrounded Mr. Wallace imme- 
diately. In spite of the long watch- 
ing and suspense, he was in the room 
almost before he was noticed. Un- 
dramatic, a poor politician, he spoke 
to the men around him and strode 
over to clasp the hand of an old 
friend. A little shy among those he 
did not know, he still was courteous, 

After the long campaign trek his 
dark blue suit remained neat and 
pressed. His hair gave the impres- 
sion of an odd shade of light brown, 
turned out to be mostly run through 
with grey. Powerful, shaggy eye- 
brews, fine lines about his eyes, and 
deep lines around his mouth, gave 
an impression of determination. The 
eyes were very kind and tired. There 
was intense concentration always 
present in his expression. One felt 
that he was only half attentive to 
the people and events around him; 
the other half was following a train 
of thought, or perhaps merely pick- 
ing up a statement a little while 
back and turning it over in his mind. 
Shot From the Hip 

When the photographers pounced 
on him to take his picture he looked 
up a little wearily and laughed, "I 
have to comb my hair first." His face 
gave the appearance of being always 
ready to smile and there were 
crinkles in the corners of his eyes. 
His smile, when it came, was slow, 
unaffected. When the pictures were 
actually being taken, he remarked, 
"They get you from the hip, don't 

Dreamy Idealism 

Later, from the Press Table at the 
Syria Mosque, his speech seemed too 
intellectual, lacked passionate decla- 
mation. Points were often weakened 
by his attitude of patiently waiting 
until applause quieted down so that 
he could go on with his idea. Cen- 
tral moiive and gi-eatest show of 
emotion came when he mentioned 
Roosevelt. In others' speeches the 
mud-slinging or the keen anti-Re- 
publican thrusts often brought his 

smile, never his applause. But at 
every reference to Mr. Roosevelt he 
seemed to arouse from his dreamy 
pensiveness and applaud. 

Dr. Bernard Clausen, who has 
known Wallace for over a year, char- 
acterized him as being less of a poli- 
tician than a sincerely religious man 
and an idealist. When Wallace v/as 
asked that evening in Pittsburgh 
what he thought of the future of Am- 
erican religion and idealism, he did 
not answer originally or brilliantly. 
Least a politician then, he could 
think of nothing pat to say. With 
hard-boiled campaign boosters and 
worldly newsmen standing all 
around, anxious to lead him off to 
the Syria Mosque, he looked off into 
the distance and said slowly: 

"There will, I think, be an in- 
creasing emphasis on the doctrine of 
general welfare, and a bringing of 
the kingdom of heaven to pass on 

Then he turned back to his cam- 

J. A. A. 

F. D. R., Jr. 

Tall, smiling Franklin Delano 
Roosevelt Jr., in Pittsburgh to ad- 
dress the Young Democrats of Amer- 
ica, granted an exclusive interview 
October 21 to Arrow reporters in his 
suite at the William Penn. 

While labor leaders, metropolitan 
reporters, and party members were 
shunted into a sitting room to wait, 
PCW reporters were led into Roose- 
velt's study in the state suite. There, 
caught between courses at dinner, 
roast beef, as testified by a hurried 
waiter — young Roosevelt told of the 
five meetings of Young Democrats 
before which he was to speak in the 
course of the evening. 

He spoke of Pittsburgh as the third 
lap in his extensive tour of the United 
States, covering nine states in eleven 
days. During this time, he address- 
ed college clubs and young Demo- 
crats from the East to the West Coast. 
At New Jersey College for Women, 
the president's son addressed 2,300 
members of the student body, found 
them enp,husiastically campaigning 
for the re-election of Roosevelt Sr. 
College Voters 

Young Roosevelt vehemently voic- 
ed his opinion on the importance of 
the votes of college-trained men and 
women. Said he, "Democracy de- 
pends upon an intelligent electorate, 

therefore it can best function with a 
well-educated voting group." 

Similarly vehement were Roose- 
velt's views when questioned about 
women in politics. "There is no rea- 
son," he said, "why a woman cannot 
go just as far as a man in politics, 
although her success, of course, de- 
pends on her intelligence and abil- 
ity." Referring to Wendell Willkie's 
criticism of Secretary of Labor Per- 
kins, he asserted that Mr. Willkie 
should be more specific in saying to 
what extent he disapproves of women 
in the political field. 

"My father has always approved of 
women in politics," admitted Roose- 
velt, "and as for my mother, she's no 
PCW Democratic Campaign 

When questioned by young Frank- 
lin about the progress of the Demo- 
cratic campaign in PCW ,the report- 
ers, one Democrat and one pseudo- 
Democrat, worded a hurried, ambig- 
uous reply, hastily changed the sub- 
ject with the query . . . "Is it true 
that you know the names of all the 
men on campus at the University of 

"I wouldn't say quite all," the pres- 
ident-candidate's son laughingly re- 
plied, "though I do know most of the 
men in the law school. I seem to be 
blessed with the ability to remember 
most faces and many names." 

Whereby began a game of do-you- 
know between Roosevelt and one of 
the reporters who was pleasantly 
startled to find a mutual acquaint- 
ance. There followed a series of recol- 
lections of F. D. R.'s days at Univer- 
sity of Virginia Law School, the re- 
cital being interrupted only by the 
appearance of his long-awaited des- 
"My Dad's Finer" 

Later in the evening, Roosevelt, 
wearing a brown business suit, a 
Bachelor Button on one lapel, a 
"Vote Democratic" pin on the other, 
and the broad Roosevelt grin, arrived 
at Democratic headquarters on Dia- 
mond Street, greeted a good-sized 
.group of enthusiastic, if not youthful, 
reporters. The crowd listened to his 
tales of "mv old man," voiced loud 
aooroval at his statement . . . "Will- 
kie is a fine man, but my Dad's finer." 
Escorted from the platform to the 
street by his rotund, jovial secre- 
tary, Roosevelt looked up to the bal- 
cony, recognized the two PCW news- 
women hanging over the edge, waved 
a long arm, called "So Long!" 

J. W. 

November 5, 1940 


Page Five 



'Anne Boleyn" 

New Ruling 

Beginning Thursday, October 31, 
the new SGA ruling on chapel over- 
cuts went into effect. SGA president, 
Gladys Patton, explained that the 
old rule still held for first offenses: 
i.e. that the first offender forfeits 
two cuts for the succeeding chapel 
month. For the second chapel over- 
cut offense, however, there will be 
a fine of fifty cents per overcut and 
a forfeiture of one finv Axiy further 
offenses will be treated in the same 
manner. As is customar;;- with all un- 
paid bills, failure to pay the required 
sum will result in a holding up of 


Later, in explaining the necessity 
for the new ruling, President Patton 
said, "The new ruling is to be re- 
garded as precautionary, rather than 
penal. We wisli to prevent a recur- 
rence of last year's unattended lec- 
tures, which were embarrassing both 
to us and to the sclieduled speaker." 

St. Gaudens 

For the first time since World War, 
Pittsburgh's famed "International" 
art exhibit has had to drop the first 
five letters of its name. This year, 
only American paintings are being 

For PCW the exhibit was form- 
ally introduced when, on October 
25th, the morning after the official 
press view, di^ified Homer St. 
Gaudens spoke about tlie pictures, 
sliowed colored slides of them. Tlie 
paintings, ranging from early Amer- 
ican to modern, w;il be at the In- 
stitute until December 15th. 


Post-Gazette's Ray Sprigle will 
speak at PCW Thursday, November 
7th. Mr. Spri-^le, who returned a 
month ago from London, on the Clip- 
per, was abroad for three months. 
A Pulitzer Prize winner of 1938 for 
tlie best reporting of the year, his 
talk should interest everyone. A 
YW meeting, this lecture will be un- 
der the particular sponsorship of 
the IRC. 

Chapel-goers on November 15 v/ill 
hear Mrs. Norman W. Ish in "Queen 
Anne Eoleyn." It is a solo drama 
in seven scenes, directed by Harry 
Dean Connor. 

Mrs. Ish travels all over the coun- 
try presenting her character sketches. 
A graduate of the Chicago School of 
Expression, she lias done extensive 
work at Northwestern University, has 
had widespread experience in com- 
munity theaters. 


Willi traditional Color Day spirit, 
the four classes engaged in a battle 
of song, gave little quarter. Dr. But- 
ler after much deliberation, awarded 
the prize, a five-pound box ox candy, 
to the Seniors, for their songs 
"Praise the Glorious Shield," and 
"To the PCW Girl." So popular was 
the latter that it is being tauglit, 
by request, to underclassmen. The 
music to the Senior Song was writ- 
ten by Mary Kay Eisenberg, the 
words to both were written by Alice 
Chattaway, Mary Linn Marks, and 
Jo Anne Healey. 


Oldest Alumnae 

Among the one hundred and one 
members present at the annual fall 
meeting of the Alumnae Associa- 
tion of PCW were three of the old- 
est alumnae: Dean Marks' mother 
from the class of '81, and two mem- 
bers of the class of '83. 

The luncheon meeting was held at 
the Twentieth Century Club. Rep- 
resenting the school were Dr. and 
Mrs. Spencer, Miss Marks, Mrs. 
Shupp, and Dr. Wallace. 

Latest news of the mock conven- 
tion and date bureau was explained 
to the alumnae by Miss Marks. Dr. 
Spencer spoke on the Mellon gift and 
the plans for its use. Dr. Wallace 
told of the research work in fats 
being done at the college and of the 
•\ire^t=v.(TV,onse Fellowship established 
for work in textiles. 

The Publicity Program and its pur- 
poses were explained by Mrs. Shupp: 
"PCW is recognized as a school of 
high .standards and its publicity pro- 
gram is unusually large, giving cer- 
tain impressions to the public about 
the school. A graduate is the best 
publicity a college has." 

Council Plans 

The Activities Council has big 
plans for the future. At the YWCA 
banquet on November 14, in Berry 
Hall, this year's freshman class will 
venture their first big assignment by 
entertaining after dinner. Gesticulat- 
ing before the association's active 
members will be all of the talent of 
the freshman class. Elated with the 
opportunity to exhibit their talents, 
the Freshman Commission under 
Chairman Ann McClymonds has 
^witten a unique little skit, with 
class penman Jeanne Condit assisting 
the commission in this project. Tlie 
banquet itself is under the supervi- 
sion of Cchairman Marjorie Wood 
'40, active member of YWCA. Anx- 
ious to uphold their Color Day repu- 
tation, the class has worked on the 
program with enthusiasm. 

Dances Planned 

Next on the busy list are the Fall 
Dances — both 
and Junior-Senior, the Fall Play, and 
a Tea Dance about which as yet there 
is no more information. 

For the intellectuals a forum 
group will meet on certain Thursday 
evenings. Once a month there will 
be a YW program, and of course 
the general get-together (we're still 
sitting down gingerly after the roller 
sliating party). 

Activities Council seems to have 
planned a busy year, but it is still 
wide open for any and all sugges- 

President Speaks 

Thursday and Friday, November 
7th and 8th, PCW's President Spen- 
cer will speak before the Carbon 
County Teachers' Institute in Mauch 
Chunk, Pa. 


Making her debut as soloist with 
the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra 
Friday evening, November 22nd. Bet- 
ty Jane Atkinson (ARROW, Oct. 9) 
will receive high honor. Mrs. John 
M. Phillips, recent recipient of an 
honorary doctor's degree from PCW, 
is in charge of an Alumnae group 
which has proclaimed the evening as 
PCW night. 

Page Six 


November 5, 1940 


SGA Conference 

Among the thirty conferees at the 
S. G. A. conierence held at Alle- 
gheny College October 24 to 27 were 
PCW-ites Gladys Patton and Ellen 

After a week-end of lectures and 
discussions concerning student gov- 
ernment problems, Gladys and Ellen 
returned from Meadville full of new 
ideas for our own S. G. A. 
Opportunities For Women 

Also under discussion at the con- 
ference were America's foreign rela- 
tions, the opportunities for American 
women in modern life, and the serv- 
ice of the S. G. A. in preparing Amer- 
ican women for participation in gov- 
ernment and politics. 

Although no YWCA conferences 
have been scheduled as yet, Sunday, 
October 27 found PCW-ites confer- 
ring with YM boys at an association 
meeting in the Carnegie Union. To- 
day in Heinz Chapel Pitt, Tech, and 
PCW "Y" groups will attend a meet- 
ing to discuss the summer confer- 
ence at Eaglesmere, Pa. 

W&J Dedication 

Saturday, October 6th, marked a 
new epoch in Washington and Jef- 
ferson College history. Its newest 
chemistry building, Lazear Hall, was 
dedicated. Alumnus Lazear, whose 
name was given to the building, was 
one of the famous sons of the col- 
lege. Interested in finding a cui-e for 
yellow fever, he experimented on 
four United States Army men. Two 
of these men came to the ceremony 
and were pi'esented with certificates 
of bravery for serving the country. 

PCW's Dr. Wallace presented 
greetings, represented PCW and the 
American Chemical Society. 


Community Fund 

Community Fund Time is almost 
here again, with Wednesday, Novem- 
ber 6 as the beginning date. Headed 
by Dr. Piel, the students will be 
divided into day and dormitory sec- 
tions with five to eight girls acting 
as assistants on various committees. 
Throughout the city of Pittsburgh, 
an extensive program has been 

planned. PCW is a very active part 
of it. 

To get everyone in the spirit of 
giving, a colored movie will be pre- 
sented at a chapel service showing 
the worli that is being done by the 
Community Fund for the underprivi- 
ledged cliildren. Then each mem- 
ber of the college will be contacted 
pei'sonally. Reward — a red feather 
to wear in your hat. Tlie campaign 
will last about two weeks. Biggest 
aim is to exceed last year's $600. 

Long recognized as a vital force in 
the city the Community Fund is an 
organization composed of various rep- 
resentative agencies. Some of these 
agencies are the American Red Cross, 
the Boy and Girl Scouts, tlie Brashear 
Association, the Irene Kaufman Set- 
tlement and many other organizations 
for colored and poor people through- 
out tlie districts. Many hospitals are 
willing to give their services to char- 
ity as well as orphanages and pub- 
lic health associations. 

IVar Work 

Sister Susie sewing shirts for sol- 
diers has nothing on the lassies now 
wandering around the iiall with their 
knitting distracting professors and 
chapel speakers witii their i-mit one, 
purl two. However, by now the War 
Relief is well organized in PCW, 
with units establislied under three 
main heads: The Britsh War Relief 
unit, headed by Janet Murray '42, 
tlie Secours Franco-American Wo- 
man's Committee whose chairman 
is Betty Gahagan '42, and the 
YWCA's Red Cross unit, presided 
over by Mary Jane Fisher '43, June 
Hunker '43, Betty Vernon '43, and 
Mairan Kieffer '43. 
Aid For the British 

The girls of the British War Re- 
lief, crisp and professional in white 
uniforms, are knitting socks, sweat- 
ers and helmets, later will try mak- 
ing simple dresses for children. To 
them from abroad liave come tele- 
grams confiiining the arrival of ma- 
terials shipped by their unit. 
Knitting For Refugees 

The Secours Franco-American, 
now working solely for Britain boasts 
two faculty members on its staff — 
the president of the Pittsburgh divi- 
sion, Mme. Marguerite Owens, and 
PCW Committee Chairman, Mrs. 
Hazel Shupp. Slightly confusing to 
the uninitiated is the committee's 
double knit program whereby they 

knit mittens to sell at home in order 
to raise money for yarn to be sent 
to refugee women in Europe so that 
they also can knit. However, the mit- 
tens are now on sale at PCW, will 
later be augmented by dress orna- 
ments also of wool. On Nov. 2, Claire 
Horwitz entertained the entire PCW 
Secours Franco-American group at 
a tea in her home. 
Red Cross At Mellon's 

The Red Cross unit at PCW sends 
24 girls to the Mellon home on Fifth 
Avenue, on Mondays, Tuesdays and 
Thursdays to roll bandages. This or- 
ganization also has about 40 knitters 
making socks and sweaters. 

Pittsburgh Charity 

Inaugurating tlieir activities pro- 
gram PCW's volunteer social work- 
ers entertained a group of Brashear 
Settlement House children at a Hal- 
loween party in the gym on Thurs- 
day, October 31. 

In addition to giving this enter- 
tainment the girls interested in so- 
cial service have volunteered to work 
in the local settlement houses, the 
Cliildren's Hospital, and the Juvenile j 

Working in the Soho Community 
House are Jessie Slioop and Jean Mil- 
ler. Claire Stewart is teaching sing- 
ing at the Davis Home for Colored 
Children, while Elizabeth Frey and 
Sara Birrell are working at Heinz 
House and Brashear House respec- 

Doing group work at Kingsley 
House are Dorothy Marshall, Frances 
Burge, Dorothy Andrews, and Mil- 
dred Rudinsky. Clerical workers at 
the Juvenile Court include Eleanor 
Garrett, Pat Blue, Virginia Crouch, 
Beatrice Dobson, Elizabeth Shipley, 
Margaret Hibbs, Dorothy Brooks, 
Barbara Heinz, Margaret Malanos, 
Louise Caldwell, Ethel Herrod, Helen 
Shellkopf, Mary K. Strathearn, Pat 
Kent, and Merry Ann Mackey. 

Helen Moore and Marden Arm- 
strong are at the Children's Hospital 
where Elizabeth Rowse has the 
unique job of reading to a boy in an 
iron lung. 

Tuberculosis League 

Complete eradication of tubercu- 
losis is possible. The Tuberculosis 
League is devoted to fighting the 
"white plague." The Christmas Seal 
sale this year will extend from No- 
vember 25 to Christmas. 






November 5, 1940 


Page Seven 



In spite of last week being the 
busiest in political history, the So- 
cialistic candidate for the presi- 
dency, Mary Kinter as Norman 
Thomas, gave a few minutes time 
from writing speeches for an in- 
formal interview. 

Energetic, as determined as ever, 
unshaken by former defeats, the 
peppy candidate pounded on the 
desk as she explained the value of 
No Need For Date Bureaus 

"Socialism," she declared, "means 
the sharing of everything, even per- 
sonal belongings. 

"This would abolish the necessity 
for date bureaus," she explained, "be- 
cause the boys would be shade equal- 
ly by all girls. We are fighting for 
the release of monopolies for private 
hands, and we believe that sharing 
the dates is the first step." 

In voice oozing with sincei-ity, the 
candidate urged that the youth of 
America does not forget him when 
it goes to the polls; whether it be vot- 
ing for president or signing for the 
date bureau. "Elect me," she cried, 
"and you won't need a date bureau. 
You may have my date, occasionally." 


Roger Babson, ably represented by 
Dr. Montgomery, came out strongly 
for the abolition of demon rum, made 
no answer to charges that the Pro- 
hibitionist party was merely a mask 
for bootleggers. 

"Rid the country of the pernicious 
influence of alcohol," cried he, and 
went on to maintain that alcohol has 
been the cause of almost every major 
evil in America since Repeal. Many 
seemed impressed, more seemed 
doubtful, some thought that perhaps 
the offer of free beer, for which one 
or two parties came out strongly, 
was the better idea. 


Last night communism in all its 
furor resounded through the halls of 
PCW. In a staggering revolt against 
the capitalist, Lorraine Wolf Browder 
really blew the lid off everything. 

"We're out to win this election and 
make the laborers supreme," ex- 
claimed the Red leader. As soon as 
she swept into the chapel in her 
dashing military cape and boots she 

took 'ihe masses by storm. 

With Browder at the wheel, every- 
one will have her share of pork and 
beans, three square meals a day. 
"Think of it. What other candidate 
promises you this?" she queried. 

If Father Marx could have heard 
his newest disciple as she promised 
her followers complete supremacy of 
industry in the world, he would have 
glowed with pride. No one will be 
rich and no one will be poor — but 
everyone will be happy, rosy-cheek- 
ed Stanlinites. Grow healthy, is not 
wealthy with the Ladies in Red hev 


Even as PCW's battle of buttons 
drew near to its boisterous climax, 
the freshman "Mr. Willkie," Ruth 
Laird, remained as unrattled by her 
strategic position as the beaming Mrs. 
Willkie herself. Eagerly anticipating 
her role as Republican presidential 
c-andidate in the mock election, she 
revealed that her one fear was that 
she could not do justice to Mr. Will- 
kie's natural manner and personality. 
Her square jaw, clean-cut features, 
and merry blue eyes give her a strik- 
ing resemblance to him, but it is her 
sudden, sincere grin that completes 
the transformation of her face into an 
almost exact duplicate of the more 
famous one whose pictures have so 
thickly plastered the walls of Berry 
Beats Mr. Willkie 

Ruth has two other firings in com- 
mon with Mr. Willkie: she is an in- 
veterate movie-goer in Emsworth, 
and a staunch Republican. As proof 
of her eligibility she commented, "It 
never occured to me at any time to 
be a Democrat," which is something 
that Willkie would give his last "No 
Third Term" button to be able to 


Tall dignified Mary Emma Hirsh 
became Roosevelt the night of the 
Mock Convention, resembled him so 
much that traditional "my friends" 
sounded legal. Unfortunately, Miss 
Hirsh is for Willkie, but that did not 
keep her from giving a realistic per- 
formance, from being convincing in 
her manner and speech. Since the 
Democratic platform offers free beer 
(in order to tempt half-hearted mem- 
bers of the Prohibitionist party), the 
aforesaid party protested vigorously 

during the demonsti-ation. 

Miss Hirsh had the traditional 
Roosevelt smile, wore it exceedingly 
well despite other party affiliations. 

Prom Chairman 

Blond, petite Betsy Colbaugh was 
unanimously chosen Junior Prom 
chairman by the student body two 
weeks ago. Active on dance commit- 
tees since she entered PCW. Betsy 
is now in charge of publicity for the 
coming Junior-Senior Dance Novem- 
ber 15, was on the committee for the 
Get-Acquainted Party several weeks 
ago. She loves dancing, claims Glenn 
Miller is her favorite orchestra. 

A liberal arts major. Chairman 
Colbaugh, plans to be a dress buyer 
when she graduates, has already 
been to New York shopping in con- 
nection with the Dorothy Beglen 
shop. Penn Hall was her prep 
school, where she divided her inter- 
ests between dancing, choir, dramat- 
ics, and cheer-leading. At PCW she 
was member of IRC and Dramatic 
Loves A Good Time 

The famous Colbaugh Giggle is 
familiar to everybody, helps earn her 
the reputation of loving a good time. 
She likes acting, tennis, most of all 
swimming — especially with the new 
Mellon Pool in the offing. Too busy 
to read as a rule, she still finds Dor- 
othy Parker most entertaining. 

No definite plans are made for the 
Prom as yet. But one thing Chair- 
rnan Colbaugh has decided — that 
"We're going to sweep everyone clean 
off his feet with our 1941 Prom!" 

Dr. Kaieser 

Hailing from the Middle West is 
Dr. Margaret Kaieser, graduate of 
University of Oklahoma, where she 
received her B. A. and M. A. de- 
grees, and the University of Illinois, 
where she tacked a doctor to her 
name. Taking the place of Dr. 
Hunter who left for marriage and 
Vassar, Dr. Kaieser is quite impress- 
ed Dy the East, likes the scenery and 
most of the people. She's a thorough 
scientist, finds the greatest of pleas- 
ure in mysterious things such as 
raising cultures of unseen forms and 
experimenting with unknowns. Dr. 
Kaieser plays a smash game of ten- 
nis, really sends her serves whip- 
ping across the net. Listed in likes 
is southern fried chicken, but peanut 
butter doesn't rate a chance. 

Page Eight 


November 5, 1940 


PCW Ensemble 

Organized three years ago PCWs 
instrumental ensemble has grown 
steadily under able director Miss 
Held. It has this year several ex- 
perienced players who liave served 
as soloists or concert-masters in high 
school orchestras. The ensemble may 
be divided into smaller groups such 
as duos, trios, quartets, or it may 
develop into a string orchestra. This 
year's thirteen members are: Alice 
Wilhelm, Joan Bowdle, Donna Mae 
Kindle, Miles Janouch, Sally Thomas, 
Martha Griffith, Ann Baker, Ruth 
Patton, Betty Gahagen, Nancy Stauf- 
fer, Agnes Hoist, Mary Kay Eisen- 
berg, and Dorothy Ridge. 


The Choi-al Festival was organized 
last year by the Liberal Arts Col- 
leges of Western Pensylvania, may 
this year include recitals in voice 
and instrument by students studying 
applied music. At tire festival many 
different colleges present a group of 
choral numbers on a non-competitive 
basis. Purpose of the gathering is 
to inspire each group with greater 
appreciation and love of ensemble 
singing. This year the Festival will 
be held at Geneva College in Beaver 
Falls on March 22. 


Young Visitor 

Young sculptor Carroll Barnes lec- 
tured at PCW a few weeks ago, de- 
fined art as creating life out of inani- 
mate material. A guest of the fresh- 
men, he brought with him most of 
his pieces thai have been exhibited 
in the Corcoran Gallery in Washing- 
ton and the Whitney Museum in Nev/ 
York. Ainong these was his famous 
■statue of brawny Paul Bunyan carry- 
ing a calf across his shoulders. Dem.- 
onstrating the importance of adapting 
subject-matter to material, he showed 
carvings of a bear in black ebony, 
zebras in striped tiger wood, a stylis- 
tic Bslgian horse, called "Purple 
Troy," in rosewood. 



Speech Play 

Reviving the old traditic", PCW's 
speech department's initial produc- 
tion of the year will be a children's 
play, Prince of Pantoufla, an old 
fairy tale dramatized by one of our 
own graduates. Miss Madge Miller 
'39. Completing her course at PCW 
as a speech major, Madge spent a 
year studying at Western Reserve 
in Cleveland, and returned to spend 
the coming year in the city, busying 
herself with writing, 

Prince cf Pantoufla, adapted from 
a fairy tale by Andrew Lang, is 
the story of a young man who 
didn't believe in fairies — or in wish- 
ing-caps or flying carpets or any- 
thing normally imaginative people 
l^now to be real. He didn't even be- 
lieve in love, and was heard to re- 
mark on one occasion, quote, women 
are too unbearably stupid, unquote, 
an obviously ridiculous statement. 
But there was a valid excuse for such 
an attitude; at his christening party a 
Bad-Tempered Fairy chose to decree 
that he would be too clever — and he 
was, so unbearably clever that he 
was as cordially detested by cour- 
tiers, servants, and countryman as 
by his long-suffering family. A 
wishing-cap, a cap of darkness, and 
a pair of seven-league boots w^ere 
among the gifts bestowed by kinder 

souls at the same party, but Pri- 
gio's unsufferable cleverness kept him 
from believing in such relics of su- 

Change of Heart 

An eldest son of the king of Pan- 
toufla, he was called upon first when 
the kingdom was invaded by a Fire- 
drake, to go and do battle with the 
thing. But his cleverness interfered 
again by assuring him that there was 
no such monster, and his two young- 
er brothers went instead — and never 
came back. This failure to return 
vi'as doubly unfortunate, since En- 
riko and Jocoso had believed in love, 
and had proved it by getting them- 
selves engaged. Eventually, how- 
ever, Prigio is persuaded that tiie 
Firedrake does exist; after a series 
of upsetting events he comes to the 
conclusion that the magic gifts have 
a power not to be ignored; he is 
even moved to confess to a certain 
young lady that before meeting her 
he didn't believe in "fairies, or Fire- 
drakes, or anything nice and impos- 
sible, but only in horrid, useless facts, 
and things Uke chemistry, and geol- 
ogy, and arithmetic, and astronomy — 
and even political economy!" 

The method by which this amaz- 
ing reformation is brought about, and 
the results of Prigio's new attitude 
toward Firedrakes and love, make a 
story too long and too entertaining 
to be related here. It should suffice 
to say that the third act of the 
Prince of Pantoufla is called "The 
Happy Ending." 
Cast Members 

An all-girl cast can quite satis- 
fr,-:torily dramatize a fairy tale. The 
cast, which is directed by Miss Van- 
da E. Kerst, is as follows: 

Pipkin Aileen Chapman 

Blanchette, First Maid, 

Nancy Spencer 

.Nelde, Second Jean Ayres 

First Servant Nancy Ritchey 

Second Servant Jean Gray 

Third Servant Jean Wyre 

Jaunia, The Queen. . . .Lorraine Wolf 
Fanfarace, Prime Minister, 

Jean Sweet 

First Page Sally Spencer 

Brognio, The King Helen Taylor 

Douceline, Queen of the Fairies, 

Jeanne Condit 

Second Fairy Marian Lambie 

Third Fairy Justine Swan 

Foiurth Fairy Betsy Colbaugli 

Fifth Fairy Barbara Weil 

Sixth Fairy Patty Leonard 

(Continued on Page 13)- 

November 5, 1940 


Page Nine 



Gripings Of A Tortured Soul 

Last Wednesday ushered in the 
hockey season and it took a good 
seat on the aisle and prepared to 
stay for three or four weeks. The 
Senior-Junior game had to be for- 
feited when the Seniors showed up 
with only three players. "Such as 
this cannot go on," say we in a firm 
and severe tone. You know if we all 
just said, "We haven't time to give 
to hockey," no team would bother 
to get in the four hours of practice 
and swish, there would go hockey. 
A major sport gone. Not only would 
this be unfair to those girls who love 
athletics and welcome the chance 
to do or die for dear old PCW, but 
it would make the editors of the 
handboolv look bad. 

"Hockey is probably the most pop- 
ular sport at PCW. It is played in 
the fall and causes a great deal of 
excitement and real rivalry among 
the classes. A cup is avrarded the 
winning team and is held by that 
class until they are defeated. From 
the class teams two honorary teams 
are chosen — the Army and Navy.. 
Each team has its colors, mascots, 
and rooters." Ironic and satiric, isn't 

At least the Freshmen and Sopho- 
mores gathered enough girls to play 
the first game of the season. Charac- 
terized by the usual roughness, high 
stirks, and erratic passing, the open- 
ing game was won by the Sopho- 
mores, 4-3. The class of '43 took off 
and amid the mad scramble in front 
of the goal, Janey Fitzpatrick 
pushed the ball over the pay-strip. 
Undoubtedly this went to tlie heads 
of the more experienced team, for 
Rigaumont went zipping down past 
the full with only the goalie to beat 
and she did. Beat her, I mean. 
Whack and there was the ball grin- 
ning up at the befuddled goalie. 
Quickly coming down to earth, the 
Sophomores went to work and despite 
a stubborn defense and occasionally 
a brilliant piece of offense by Spring- 
er and Rigaumont, the Rose and 
White slipped over the edge, 4-3. 
Hoping Hole 

Having no predictions to make as 
to the class champion, here we go, 
putting ourselves out on a limb, and 
picking the hockey stars of the year. 
Diplomacy being the spirit of the 
times, we chose three out-standing 
players from each team. 


Charlotte Wolf— right half. A 
steady, dependable halfback. Charrie 
is always on the ball in more ways 
than one. At her best when the go- 
ing is tough, she has the endui-ance 
to outlast the most ferocious on- 

Julia Wells — center forward. A star 
at any game. Fleet of foot, she often 
out-runs her forward line. A safe 
bet on any bully is Julie — she gets 
it every time. 

Gladys Patton — inner. Here again 
is steadiness typified. Pat keeps her 
stick down and the team morale up 
as she dribbles down the field. 

Margaret Anderson — goalie. With- 
out a doubt, the best goalie in the 
school. Hard shots, easy rolls, or 
scoops are all the same to Mauky, 
as swish her feet are together and 
off the ball ricocliets. 

Betty Hazeltine — left wing. Betty 
strikes fear to any goalie's heart as 
she deftly scoops the ball into the 
corner that even Yehudi isn't cov- 
ering. Fast and accurate, playing the 
hardest position in the forward line. 

Phyllis Keister — center half. Phil 
is the little girl who is always there. 
Her clever stickwork outwits the op- 
ponent every time. Beautiful back- 

Jane Fitzpatrick — forward. Stead- 
iest forward in the Sophomore line- 
up, versatile is Jane's middle name. 
Right or left inner and a corking 
good job of center-forward, all are 
played with skill and determination. 

Brice Black — right half. Brice 
backs up her forward line and skill- 
fully interchanges. Smart stickwork 
and fast, accurate passes are her 

Barbara Browme — center half. 
Brownie plays with heart as ■well as 
anybody. She'll run her legs off for 
the good of the team and that lui'ge 
is a work of art. 

Marion Springer — center forward. 
Offensive or defensive, it makes lit- 
tle difference to Marion. Packing an 
exceptionally hard shot at the goal, 
slie sends dread to the boots of her 

Jean Rigaumont — inner. Riggy sets 
sail v/ith the ball and just try and 
take it away from her. 

Peggy Craig — halfbaclv. Peggy is 
the outstanding defense artist on the 
Freshman team. A cool head and 
low stick block any opponent. 


Sink or Swim 

You all saw the cover oi the Arrow 
last month and were privileged to 
have a view of our new pool in the 
Mellon Hall. Offering untold possibil- 
ities to us at PCW, use of this pool 
would mal-ce it all swimming and no 
sinking. Our doggie-paddle would 
leng;then out into reasonably accur- 
ate facsimiles of Eleanor Hohn and 
Jon Hall. It would be possible to 
have a swimming team that could 
compete with the other neighboring 
schools or you, who prefer to do so, 
may swim "just for fun." Recreation, 
in the water, Iras ever been and al- 
ways will be appealing and attrac- 
tive to a multitude of people. In- 
dulgence in any of its many forms 
is recognized almost universally as 
being a happy, health-benefiting ex- 
perience — a release that marks a 
change from routine habits cf living, 
thir.king, and acting to the not us- 
ual, non-habitual stimulation of 

The one darlv note in an other- 
v/ise bright and stimulating picture 
is seen in the number of people v.'ho 
lose their lives 'oy drowning (7,500 
a year) and in the many thousands 
who experience a "near-drowning" 
but manage to survive. A great ma- 
jority of people will never get into 
difficulty in the water, but tliere still 
will be many who, through lack of 
l-;nowledge or lack of skill, will 
lace the danger of drowning. 

Knowledge and skill — these ai'e 
the things which tend to eliminate 
danger. Slviil in aquatics is acquired 
through instruction and practice. 
Knowledge is gained by means of in- 
struction and practice. Both are ac- 
quired in a life-saving course. In- 
creasing personal safety, knowledge 
of safe-bathing places, ability to aid 
in the rescue of another, resuscita- 
tion, all are included in this course. 
This class would be given under a 
competent Red Cross Instructor and 
would yield your certification as a 
Senior Red Cross Life Saver, thus 
facilitating your obtaining a job as 
a life guard at pools or camps or 
simply assures you of almost abso- 
lute personal safety. 

Ai'e you interested in such a course 
or in a course for the fundamentals 
of good swimming? If so, contact 
either the sports editor of the Arrow 
or Miss Graham, physical educa- 
tion director. 

Page Ten 


November 5. 1940 


Here and There 

Hello again you college kids, we're 
bad? again with news. We'll stir the 
pots and lift the lids of all the latest 
stews. And sotto voice to ye ed. 
Please take it easy with the cutting 
shears this t.'me. The previous issue 
had us down to our last exclama- 
tion point. (O. K., ed.). 

The great exodus is on, and the 
past two-week-ends found home 
campus practically deserted. The Big 
Three welcomed Mary Jane Harter 
and Phyllis Keister at Yale and 
Harvard respectively, with Mary 
Kinter, Ethel Herrod, Peggy Orr, 
Alice McCain, Ellen Copeland, Mar- 
gie Anderson, Marjorie Harter, and 
Connie Meyers going up to Prince- 
ton. Cornell called M. A. Spellmire 
and Penn State was invaded by Petey 
McCall, Nancy Maxwell, Mary 
Schwalb, Betty Spierling and Janet 
Baer. To the ever-faithful J-men 
go Margie Longwell, and Julie Wells. 
(On re-reading we wish to substitute 
ever-handy, for ever-faitliful in the 
foregoing sentence.) Betsy Colbaugh 
goes South to the U. of Virginia to 
celebrate Armistice Day with the 
rebels. Well girls, have your fun 
now, because come next year and the 
-week-ends may be limited to Army 
•excursions. The most amusing sight 
of the week has been tlie gals I'Cneel- 
ing on the floor scanning the con- 
scription lists in oi'der to estimate 
their losses. First to go was Mary 
Lou Henry's man. No. 158. 

The social swing is still swinging, 
witlr Alice Provost, Mary Singer, 
Alice Steinmark, Marian Lambie, 
Fran Pollick, Ruth Patton and Betty 
Hazeltine Pitt Soplr-Hoping: Mary 
Jane Daley, Barbara Maerker, Eliz- 
abeth Warner, Carol Bostwick, Mary 
Lou Armstrong and Patty Leonard 
among those at the Winchester 
Alumnae Dance. 

The import business is also improv- 
ing, with Plryllis Tross's man down 
from Case to watch Tech win (plug) 
and Skipper Clipson's man calling 
from far off Canada to deliver his 
best — regards. 

As for publicity, The PCW gals 
manage to keep on the air and in the 
news witli Betsy Conover's man 
Cochran keeping the ether around 
WWSW busy with requests for the 
gals, and the "Gad About" our lat- 
est competition, starring Barbara 
Caldwell, Mary Lou Rieber and Beth 
Howard on tlieir cover, while the 

B. I. rates Alice Chattaway the 
"ideal PCW co-ed" and devotes two 
pages to PCW activities. 

And continuing — The P. P. I. (Pin- 
Possessors Institute) welcomes Mary 
Linn Marks, and Ginny Crouch, who 
busily trade sweetheart pins for the 
real thing and vice-versa. The next 
step is demonstrated by Pat Bren- 
nan, alumnae, who was married on 
Wednesday, and Cathy Carey, who 
will be married December 5, 1940, 
with PCW-ites Jean Sweet and 
Coleen Lauer as bridesmaids. Late 
editions to the P. P. I. include Anne 
Butler, Ruth Strickland and Anne 

The Date Bureau flashed into ac- 
tion, with Betty Jonescue catcliing 
the flrst date, a very personable 
young Delt from Carnegie Tech. 
When that thing really gets going, the 
gossip column will write itself. 

And that is about all, except if you 
took our advice last issue, and look- 
ed for us at the Coke machine, we 
weren't there. Neither was the Coke 
machine. Why don't you get busy 
and ask "Why not?" Maybe the pro- 
hibitionists thought it was anti- 
Babson propaganda. 

And so until next issue, keep doing 
tilings, and we'll keep taking notes. 
H. L. M., M. H. 

Fashion Hints 

Blue-books and ten minute writ- 
tens are foremost in the mind of the 
average PCW-ite but there is still 
the prospect of the dance two week.s 
away, or even the big week-end 
that is so close. 

Maybe you've been worrying for 
weels:s about what you'll wear to the 
game but right now you can banish 
these worries for all you need is a 
sporty new camels hair coat. A top- 
coat in camels hair is just tire thing 
and you can even get a two-piece 
suit of camels hair that will Iveep 
you warm as a bunny. 

Come house party week-end there's 
nothing better to wear on the train 
than a classic tweed suit. Reefer 
coats are popular and this year a 
looser coat trimmed in fur is being 
shown. A perky little fur Irat gives 
your suit that needed finishing touch. 
Speaking of Sweaters 

Sloppy Joe started it and this 
year's designers have finished it. 
Ycur new sweater to top off the 
classic look of your suit is prefer- 
ably a pastel shade. The Brooks 

.=;weater is fast gaining a foothold 
on the ladder of fashion. A string 
of the new twenty-inch pearls or 
even a white pique dickey is per- 
fect to be -worn with your sweaters. 

What could be more fun on a rainy 
day than dressing up in red boots, 
red sou'wester, and a gabardine coat 
lined in red plaid. The sou'wester 
is red gabardine and is a perfect 
copy of the hats worn by your 
Volunteer Fire Department. 

Fur coats are full length this yeai 
— all of forty-one inches. Sable-dyed 
muskrat, leopard, and natural lynx 
are just a few from which to choose. 
You can match the fur on your coat 
in your hats, your shoes, or your 
The Perennial Polo Coat 

Our perennial polo coat is all 
dressed up in a new version which 
spells glamour in a delicious vanilla 
shade, and it is fastened with pearl 
buttons for evening wear. Its cousin, 
the snowy white teddy bear fleece, 
is lined with a brilliant color. If 
you're the frail flower — or if you can 
act the part — v/ear a bouffant form- 
al in pastel shades spvinl^led gener- 
ously with sequins. As for the fem- 
me-fatale, her sophisticated type 
will lilve the covered-up look of a 
long slim skirt. 

As for the all important colors we 
have found that red, gold and beige 
are holding their own. Red is in for 
casual clothes and evening clothes. 
Then, of course, you've heard rum- 
ors about red flannels — the real old 
fashioned variety. That's all for now 
— but we'll be seeing you after the 
game, staggering the stag-line in 
your new outfit. 

J. Mc, M. A. 

Our Monthly Reminder — 

Patronize Your Music Store 


Hacke Building 
207 Fifth Ave. Pittsburgh, Pa. 


•«dI)]_ _A<.t. WORK- eCAaANTE60' «^ 

smfftpatie/rrsHOP 'j^iU'k&fDB 

Pens of best makes SI to SIO 

Name engraved free on $2.50 up 



November 5, 1940 


Page Eleven 




We, the American people, are to 
be convinced as to whicla candidate 
should be elected by one of two meth- 
ods, either by emotion or by reason. 

Are we sufficiently educated to be 
influenced by tire accusation "Mr. 
Willkie is Hitler's candidate?" Do we 
believe that Mr. Roosevelt wants to 
become a dictator? Is it true that 
Mr. Willkie is representing the cap- 
italist class and tliat Mr. Lewis in 
turn is supporting that class? Can 
you believe that, if the Republican 
party is victorious, financial aid to 
the unemployed and aged will be 
curtailed? Such are the mud-sling- 
ing, emotional statements of a highly 
nonsensical type. 

In case of an emergency such as 
war, can one party better serve the 
nation than the other party? Or, is 
our status relative to the war as sot- 
tied as was the banking question in 
1932, when the defeated party had 
improvised tlie same metliod for re- 
covery as tlie present administration? 
In the time of war political feelings 
must be abandoned and statesman- 
like attitudes assumed. Why couldn't 
the present Democratic administra- 
tion and its diplomatic corps, when 
defeated, give aid to the victorious 
party , especially when asked, as can- 
didate Willkie has already indicated? 

Is it democratic to have eleven mil- 
lion unerriployed and an ever-increas- 
ing spending orgy far above the bud- 
get of this present relatively non- 
productive nation? 

And lastly, it is quite unfair to 
call Mr. Roosevelt a dictator, but it 
Is quite reasonable to believe that 
"those few federal employees who con- 
sider him "indispensable" have be- 
come so accustomed to power and so 
desirous to clinch that power that the 
"defenseless" man has no other re- 
course. In the days of Thomas Jef- 
ferson, when the republic had a total 
population of some three million and 
when the emergencies were more 
prevalent than today, our forefathers 
had no trouble in finding at least one 
candidate to carry on the government, 
so that one single, solitary mortal 
need not serve his country for twelve 
years. Is it correct that we have in 
this nation of one hundred and tliirty- 
five million people only one person 
left such tliat we must draft this last 
one for a third term? 

E. K. W. 


I believe that Mr. Willkie should be 
elected because: 

(1) The supervision of our Nation- 
al Defense program requires a man 
wlio has had experience with px'ob- 
lems of production, and in whom 
rests the condence of the business 
which must produce the materials 
necessary for an adequate defense. 
The profits accruing to business from 
tills increased production wiU neces- 
sarily be reinvested in American in- 
dustries, thereby insuring expansion. 

(2) Just as the bureaucracy in 
France weakened her internally and 
led to her downfall, so has the bu- 
reaucracy in this country weakened 
her internally and led to woeful mis- 
management of government funds. 

(3) Despite tire supposed efforts of 
the National Labor Relations Board 
to promote good wiU between em- 
ployer and worker and between the 
two national unions, this agency has 
not only caused dissent between em- 
ployer and worker, but has intensi- 
fied disputes between the A. F. of L. 
and the C. I. O. A country cannot 
proceed towards recovery when the 
process is retarded by bitterness and 
quarrels in the labor factions. 

I believe that Mr. Willkie will win 
because he is progressive without be- 
ing radical, because the American 
people are tired of promises which 
never come true, and finally, because 
I believe that Mr. Willkie can more 
readily gain the cooperation needed 
to build up an economic security in 

J. S. B. 



I shall vote for the reelection of 
President Roosevelt, on the most gen- 
eral ground, because he alone of the 
two major candidates has had tlie 
experience in government whicli the 
present crisis demands. To put in 
office at this juncture even the most 
high-minded novice would be tragic 

I shall vote for Mr. Roosevelt be- 
cause his reelection would mean the 
safeguarding and the continuance of 
tlie social and labor legislation which 
is essential to tlie preservation and 
extension of democracy in America. 

I sliall vote Democratic this year 
because I am in favor of this admin- 

istration's foreign policy. Tiie op- 
position reaUy offers an alternative. I 
am convinced that the country is be- 
hind the President in tliis policy. 

Is it not a sufficient reason for re- 
electing Mr. Roosevelt that the Axis 
powers desire his defeat? A victory 
for appeasement would be an incal- 
culable calamity for America. 

C. W. D. 


Tliere are several reasons why I 
think every intelligent American 
should support Mr. Roosevelt for a 
third term. One of tlie most im- 
portant of these reasons is that, 
throughout his administration he has 
never catered to the intei-ests of any- 
particular group, but rather stood 
for the measures whicli would bring 
the greatest good to the largest num- 
ber of our people. I believe that dur- 
ing his administration there have 
been greater strides made in social 
legislation than in any previous pe- 
riod of our history. An example of 
such legal legislation is the N. L. R. 
B.. which, despite the claims of Mr. 
Willkie that no one man was re- 
sponsible for its formation, owes its 
passage largely to Mr. Roosevelt, 
who fought biUerly for it in the face 
of the Republican opposition. 

Secondly and perhaps even more 
important at the present time is the 
fact that now, more than ever be- 
fore, it is necessary to have a man 
in office that has prestige abroad. 
We must have a President who has 
experience and ability in handling the 
foreign problems which arise daily. 
It is only by a unity in the Americas 
that we can save the form of gov- 
ernment that we so love and this 
unity can only be maintained by the 
trade treaties with the countries of 
this hemisphere. You need not be 
told that these treaties probably 
would be done away with if the Re- 
publicans were to come into pow- 
er, because it was that party which 
so bitterly opposed the ratification 
of the treaties in the first place. 

Because I am an American who 
wishes to see this country continue 
to be one which is for every class, 
not just the favored few, and wish 
to see American strong enough to 
resist the strength of the dictatorial 
powers of Europe, I am for F. D. R. 
E. A. H. 

Page Twelve 


November 5, 1940 




Now that the question is all but 
settled I wish to forget animosities 
and irritations which have been en- 
gendered in the process of the pot 
calling the kettle black which is call- 
ed campaigning in America. Who- 
ever is elected, I wish him well and 
hope for him that he can do what 
he has promised to do, though I re- 
serve the right to suspect that he can- 

I am a believer in the democratic 
process. Since I so believe, I am 

1. That Mr. Roosevelt (if he is 
elected) can be checked, direct- 
ed, rebuked if necessary by the 
will of the people expressed by 
the vote of the majority should 
he attempt to allocate to himself 
a too peremptory authority (as 
some persons suspect he may). 

2. That Mr. Willkie (if he is elected) 
can be checked, directed, re- 
buked if necessary by the will of 
the people expressed by the vote 
of the majority, should he deny 
his campaign promises and at- 
tempt to turn over the country to 
his monopolist friends (as some 
persons believe he may). 

That is, I have a higher confidence 
in the democratic process than in the 
candidates. On second thought, of 
course, I voted for Roger Babson. 

H. C. S. 

Frat Voices 

The fact that the new PCW Date 
Bureau has been considered and ac- 
cepted by the leading fraternities at 
Pitt and Tech will probably be the 
most tangible proof to the student 
body that the Bureau not only means 
business but is going to get it. 
Tartans Take To Bureau 

At Tech, Tom Soddy, president of 
Delta Tau Delta, remarked, "It's a 
super idea, especially for out of town 
boys who want to get acquainted with 
datable girls." Said dark, pleasant 
Jim Wills, enthusiastically supported 
by all other Delta Upsilons wthin 
earshot, "It's an idea we've needed 
for some time. The boys really want 
to know the PCW girls better." Tow- 
ering "Boom" Havlish, president of 
PiKA, who was recently voted the 

most handsome man on the campus, 
said, "I think that the system will 
have to be tried before I can give a 
real opinion, though the idea's a good 
one. Perhaps pictures of the girls 
would help to get it started, because 
the boys would like to have an idea 
of what to expect." President Bob 
Jacobson thouglit that tire interest of 
the Kappa Sigmas would increase as 
tlie Bureau became better known, and 
commented, "The pledges and new 
boys have already signed up, but I 
Ivnow that more PCW dates would be 
welcomed by all of us." 
Pitt Opinions 

Typical of opinions expressed by 
Pitt men was that of slow-spoken Bob 
Ferris, head of Phi Delta Theta, who 
agreed that the Date Bureau would 
be kept busy if the boys found that 
tliey could trust the judgment of the 
girls in charge. Noncommittal Bob 
Ross, Kappa Sigma, said tlrat the 
boys intended to cooperate in every 
way to make the idea a success, and 
was joined by peppy Bob Jones, pres- 
ident of Delta Tau Delta. Said he, 
"We'll take a chance." Outspoken 
Joe Roberts, Phi Gamma Delta, re- 
marked tartly, "A Date Bureau is a 
swell idea — for girls. Men get a 
kick out of doing their own scouting, 
and always have and always will 
prefer to hunt their own women." 

As for the actual workings of the 
date bureau . . . 

Sponsors Alice Chattaway, Elaine 
Fitzwilson, Jo Anne Healey, Frances 
Johnson, and Gladys Patton wish to 
have it clearly understood that the 
bureau is to be operated on a strict- 
ly impersonal, business-like basis. 

Girls who sign the "date-wanted" 
list on the bulletin board will be 
chosen for dates with men who have 
signed similar lists at Pitt's Phi Gam, 
Delt, Phi Delt, and PiKA houses, 
Tech's Kappa Sig, Beta, Delt, and 
PiKA houses. 

One man in each fraternity is to 
be in charge of arrangements, calling 
our date bureau at regular, specified 
office hours. 
Dating Difficulties 

Both day students and dorm stu- 
dents will profit by the newly-organ- 
ized bureau. With the fall formals 
coming up, however, there is one 
obstacle yet to be overcome by the 
Bureau, in reference to dates for day 
students. No workable plan has 
been devised by which day students 
can be introduced to the men sent 
by the various fraternities, in most 
cases on the nights of school dances. 
Three suggestions have been made: 

1. That day students come to the 
dorm before the dance so that in- 
troductions may be made. 

2. That introductions be made in 
Berry Hall drawing room. 

3'. That introductions be made at the 
home of the student by a mem- 
ber of the Bureau. 
Although these and similar diffi- 
culties have yet to be ironed out, th^ 
date bureau actually has taken its 
place among PCW institutions, re- 
ports successful negotiations last 
week-end, its first. To upper class- 
men as well as to freshmen, this 
new organization affords an oppor- 
tunity to meet new people and to 
participate in increased social ac- 
tivity this winter. 


I Corsages - - Cut Floivers - - Decorations 


812 Wood Street 

g CHurchill 0373 


Distinctive styles for the College Girl 

On Campus — At the Game 


For Tea — At the Dance 

November 5, 1940 


Page Thirteen 



by Janet McCormick '43 

They gave me a soup-ladle and 
now they wonder at the conse- 

I don't. 

"Slop out the soup," they said when 
I started. "Make it quick and — uh, 
— make it stretch." 

They didn't warn me about any- 
thing. They just said — "You there, 

Now here I am. I've obeyed very 
literally the only command given me. 
— "slop out the soup." And it's in 
that process of slopping that all the 
trouble lies. 

At first I wasn't such a success in 
the soup department. Noodles float- 
ed and vegetables sank so that a hap- 
py medium of broth and solid matter 
couldn't be reached. It was all one or 
the other. It remained for corn soup 
to show me how neutral soup can be. 
Then I'd have soup left over. "Didn't 
you sell it all?" they'd ask. "Well. 
Can't you push it a little?" 

There is the essence of my trouble. 
Every week day since school began I 
have been mentally and physically 
"pushing" a gallon of chicken, mush- 
room or cream of celery — with car- 

Soup doesn't sell itself. College 
girls' minds flit to tasty dainties far- 
ther down cafeteria tables and are 
prone to lightly skip over the good 
old-fashioned soup at the head of the 

Soup — that's me. And potential 
drinkers pass me by. Sometimes 1 
fairly ooze over on them I push soup 
so hard. Any device will do. "All 
Willkie-ites like beef broth with noo- 
dles," I've told them. "Just think — 
mushrooms with hamburgers — soup, 
of course." 

"Yes ,soup is much more nourish- 
ing than Spanish rice. What kind of 
soup? This kind." and I point to the 
sign by my kettle. 

What do they do then? When I try 
the old one — "Don't break the chain, 
everyone here so far has taken soup" 
— they graciously step out of line and 
let someone else break it. 

"Is the soup good today?" 

"Oh, yes. Mickey made it herself. 
She cut up every piece of potato and 
celery and carrot and — " 

"I'll take a salad." 

"May I see the soup, please?" This 

one peered in at the tomato-tinted 

"Thank you." And she reached for 
a glass of prune juice. 

"I didn't even want any yesterday 
when it was fresh. Hebrews 13:8," she 
said as she glanced wearily ahead to- 
ward the sandwiclies. 

I looked up Hebrews 13:8 and it is 
as follows: "Jesus Christ, the same 
yesterday, and today, and forever." 

"No." She enunciated very clearly 
and emphatically with a firm jaw and 
a curt nod as she firmly pushed her 
tray down the slide past the cream of 
tomato sign. 

Despite this I must sell the soup. 
If not today, tomorrow. But I must 
sell the soup. 

Early in the mornings in the den as 
people puflf in after their hard climb 
up the hill, I scan their faces for a 
hidden soup-longing. 

"Will she get soup today? Shall I 
be breathing a sigh of relief at ten 
after one when the cream of pea goes 
down a quarter of an inch in the con- 
tainer?" Then my eyes start to haunt 
the next face. 

Now in the kitchen they say, "Don't 
take it so seriously. It isn't your 
loss. After all, it's just soup." 

But the damage has been done. 

IT'S MY I. Q. 

By CaTol Bostwick, '42 

They say that the farther advanc- 
ed your intelligence, the more you 
think in terms of vocabulary rather 
than in graphic images. If someone 
says "horse," John B. Kieran thinks 
"equine." I see an old hunter taking 
a jump in the Saturday hunt. That 
leaves me right down in the moron 

When I count, I see number ten, 
sitting on a corner waiting for me to 
approach, to send me at right angles, 
horizontally over to twenty by way 
of the teens. The twenties, thirties, 
and so forth up to a hundred look 
like upward scales on a piano. This 
image effect certainly does not come 
from an over-indulgence in alcoholic 
beverages. Certainly iced coffee is 
the strongest beverage that has stim- 
ulated my cerebellum since Mother 
gave me a teaspoonful of whiskey to 
put me to sleep, when I was ten. 

When some one asks me what I'm 
going to do all next year, next year 
pops up before my eyes in the form 
of an oval. Here I think a few dis- 

crepancies have slipped into my im- 
age-making machine. From Janu- 
ary to May, the months are hud- 
dled together, taking barely a fifth 
of the whole oval. Then vacation, 
June, July, August, stretch out 
placidly, extending as far around the 
curve into winter as possible. Christ- 
mas dominates one end; buying a fall 
coat outshadows every otlier point on 
the opposite end. In between, colors 
take over; the summer side being a 
dark sun tan, the winter side, a dirty 
white, for I live in Pittsburgh. 

Perhaps, I have a definite need for 
the Stanford-Binet test or a course in 
vocabulary, but I'm rather inclined 
to think of myself as a mental artist, 
temperamentally misunderstood by 
Freud and his followers. 


(Continued from Page 8) 

Seventh FaiiT Jerry Strem 

Brancaline, a bad-tempered fairy, 

Patty Wright 
Prigian, the crown prince, 

Mary Evelyn Ducey 
Enrico, Prince of Pantoufla, 

Mary Phyllis Jones 
Jocose, Prince of Pantoufia, 

Virginia Gray 

Lady Katrina Alice Provost 

Lady Molinda Elizabeth Warner 

Doctor Peixinet Jean Hill 

Doctor Brille Jeanne McKeag 

Man Jane Blattner 

Woman Alice Horsefield 

FoUe, a waiter Jerry Strem 

The Irate Gentleman . Betty Spierling 
The Mayor of Guckstein, 

Claire Horwixz 

His Wife Elizabeth Rov/se 

Their Daughter Jane Evans 

Lord Kelso, Ambassador from 

Gondaifia Constance Meyers 

Lady Delicia, his daughter, 

Alice Claattaway 
The other committees under the 
general direction of Jean HiU, '41, 
are: Publicity, Marian Lambie, chair- 
man; Leona Painter, Jean Sweet, 
Louise Rider, Claire Horowitz, Jan- 
et McCormick, Amanda Harris 
Louise Wallace, Gloria Silverstein. 
and Lillian Sheasby; Costumes, Ai- 
leen Chapman, chairman, Jeanne 
Condit, Barbara Matthews, Virginia 
Gray, Nancy Maxwell, and Barbara 
Schupp; properties, Claire Horowitz, 
Jean H]ll, Evelyn Fulton, Peggy 
Craig and Martha Harlan; Ways and 
Means and House Committees, whose 
heads have not as yet been named. 

Page Fourteen 


November 5, 1940 


PEOPLE STARVE by Jane Zacharias '41 

People starve every year. As an 
average group of people, we do noth- 
ing to remedy the condition. We give 
to the Community Fund, the Red 
Cross, the Salvation Army. It is 
easier to take a dollar from our 
pockets than to listen to a tale of 
woe or, worse still, not to have the 
right to wear the red feather of the 
Community Fund. In the windows of 
our living-rooms, we paste the em- 
blem of our favorite charity to tell 
all who see it that "We have given." 
That is final. 

In college, the Community Fund 
drive rages while people tap you on 
the shoulder and ask for a dollar. 
Then you are checked on their list 
and enter the realm of respectability. 
"We have given." And, having 
given, we have done our duty and 
sink back into the universe of self- 
righteousness and satisfaction. 

There is a different spirit abroad 
this year. People are not so anxious 
to do what they consider their duty 
and then stop. Tlie idea of duty has 
disappeared; people are giving and 
working because they want to, be- 
cause they feel the work is to be done 
and they are the people to do it. 

This fall, with the beginning of 
college, church and club activities, 
the programs were cut, altered, to 
make a place for service. Nothing 
seems to be much trouble. Money 
comes almost without effort. Time 
■stretches and we ""-y^ri '--ni-^ foi- 
knitting, sewing, bandage rolling. The 
churches are crowded with women 
who spend several days of each week 
sewing dresses, mal?;ing bandages, go- 
ing home with packages of yarn to 
knit sweaters and socks. The society 
pages of the paper are filled with ac- 
counts of benefits. In the busy sched- 
ules of our colleges, time is found for 
an afternoon of knitting. Everywhere, 
people are busy, worl^ing uncom- 
plainingly, as if the work were some- 
thing each one wanted to do instead 
of something to be done. 

And yet, isn't this sudden activity 
a bit ludicrous? Why all this energy? 
We are safe, for the moment, bound- 
ed by two oceans, governed by a 
democratic government. Why should 
we do all this, worthy as it is, for 
foreign nations? This work is not 
for us. It is for hundreds, thou- 
sands of people, across the ocean. 
They are nothing to us. We will 

never see them, never hear from 
them, never know them. We cannot 
even visualize their daily lives as 
they must be lived under the present 
conditions. Yet we are willing to 
work hour after hour, knitting, rais- 
ing money, rolling bandages. 

But why do we do this? It is sim- 
ply because we delight in the heroic, 
the spectacular, the unusual. A war 
is not a commonplace affair, it is 
chaos. It means bombs, tanks, sub- 
marines, shooting, groans, sirens 
shrieking, the clatter of fire engines, 
the cries of lost children, the wails 
of the homeless. It means hate, de- 
spair, patriotism, the merging of the 
individual into the state, the fall of 
thrones and governments. 

We, in America, read each detail, 
decide that it is liorrible, unbeliev- 
able, torture to read, and then we 
read some more. It is the vicarious 
craving for the unexperienced. We 
must do something; we must be part 
of this chaos. So we join an organ- 
ization and work for long hours, hard 
work, more work than some of us 
have ever done. 

People are starving in Europe and 
they mustn't starve. People are 
freezing in Europe and they mustn't 
freeze. People are homeless in Eu- 
rope and they mustn't be homeless. 
People are starving in America and 
we allow them to starve. People are 
freezing in America and we allow 
them to freeze. People are homeless 
in America and we allow them to be 
without homes. There is nothing 
spectacular about these catastrophes 
in America they happen quietly, so 
quietly that only those immediately 
concerned know anything about 
them. The share croppers are often 
hungry; but little, comparatively, is 
done to feed them. Last winter, in 
the south during the unusually cold 
weather, people froze, and little was 
done. The records of the nightly at- 
tendance at places comparable to the 
Improvement of the Poor show us 
how many people must be homeless, 
unable even to find such a lodging. 

But these things are ordinary, not 
accompanied by bombs or sirens or 

We are not interested in ordinary 
things, we are thrilled only by the 
unique. The hungry, the cold, the 
homeless, in our own land, do not in- 
terest us vitally. We can forget 
them; we give money to various 
charitable organizations and forget 
the need. The war is impossible to 
forget; it is shouted over the radio, it 
is printed in the newspapers, every 
magazine in tlie country is searching 
for a new opinion as to the outcome. 
This impresses itself upon our minds. 

America has been lauded as a char- 
itable country. English statesmen 
mention frequently the generosity of 
Americans, praising our efforts to 

America is a generous nation. She 
has always been ready to assist in any 
possible way. She will give untU her 
coffers are empty. She will work 
until her people are exhausted. She 
will risk her international integrity 
to aid the suffering. The only pity of 
it is that it takes the mighty power, 
the tragedy of war to show her liow 
to help. 


Marian Lambie '43 

The President of the United States 
was speaking. I listened, in thrilled 
silence. His voice was confident,, 
sure. Here was a man poised, able 
to meet any situation. 

He told of the efforts to keep us 
at peace. How he had worked to 
avoid economic entanglements. The 
way he tried to get our citizens liome 
from abroad to avoid possible "inci- 

He revealed how short-sighted Re- 
publicans in Congress liad been 
against preparedness. He showed 
how these turncoatSi not only now ad- 
vocate arming, but blame him for 
his former slowness. 

His speech was ended. I turned to 
my friend. "Wasn't it marvelous? 
Isn't he wonderful?" I said. 

"I'm for Willkie," she answered. 


there is nothing like a flower greeting 


6010 PENN AVENUE IHO. 2144 I 



November 5, 1940 


Page Fifteen 



The dark-haired girl had nearly 
reacher' the too of the steps before 
she looked toward the group stand- 
ing in the entrance to the first bal- 
cony. It was almost time for the 
concert to begin. Late-comers were 
streaming by. In the distance the 
musicians could be heard tuning their 
instruments. But all this noise and 
commotion held no reality for tire 
girl. She only knew that Ronald, 
looking blessedly familiar, was stand- 
ing talking to a group of friends. 
Her first impulse was to try to es- 
cape, but her common sense told 
her that evasion was impossible. As 
she reached the top step, Ronald 
turned slightly, his eyes following 
the startled gaze of one of their mu- 
tual friends in the group. 

"Dear God, please make me say 
the right thing. Don't let me faint 
Dr do anything I shouldn't." 

The girl mustered all the courage 
that her slight body contained and 
stepped toward the group. As she 
moved in their direction, her eyes 
met Ronald's. In that split second, 
he looked at her with unmasked 
eyes, witli an expression that only 
she could catcli, but which said more 
to her than all the eloquent words 
in the world. Her breath caught in 
her throat. She thought, "You can't 
look at me that way — not here. Ron, 
don't make this liard for me." 

Her eyes plead with him to be 
kind, to be casual. As she reached 
the group, Ronald stepped away from 
his friends and extended his hand 
in greeting. 

"Jane, how are you? I haven't 
seen you for ages." 

"Hello, Ronald." She returned his 
handshake. "I'm fine, thank you. 
And you? You're looking well." 

"I've been fine." He turned to his 
companions. "Helen and Larry, you 
know Jane, don't you?" 

They smiled and spoke, obviously 
feeling the tension of the situation. 
Ronald introduced a pale young man 
with thick glasses and a light neck- 
tie who, Jane suspected, was proba- 
bly another of Helen's "geniuses." 
They stood there a moment, the five 
of them, fumbling for words and 
wishing they were anywhere but 
here. Finally Helen came to the 

"Jane, do tell me about your work. 
I haven't seen you for so long that 

I'm afraid I'm awfully behind in the 
news. You must be doing some fine 
things now." 

Jane smiled modestly. "Well, I'm 
trying. Still studying with Bonati, 
of course. But I know I have a long 
way to go before I'll be a real 

Helen protested ineffectively. "I 
don't think it will be so long now. 
I always said that we would be 
proud to know you someday. Right 
now we are getting practice in swell- 
ing our chests over Ronald. You've 
heard the news, haven't you?" 

"No, tell me about it." 

"Why Jane, he just received word 
that he will play in the first string 
section of the NBC next season. Isn't 
that thrilling?" 

As Jane turned to congratulate 
Ronald, she saw that his face was 
inscrutable, that the wall which al- 
ways separated them was between 
them once more. "It's better this 
way," she thought. "I mustn't try 
to break down this wall. What used 
to be can never be again. Perhaps 
someday I'll be able to see him and 
be casual and not have this horrible 

Jane was barely aware of the short 
conversation which followed. The 
pale young man watched Helen with 
worshipful eyes while she went into 
rhapsodies over the wonderfully 
moving poetry that he wrote. Jane 
tried to seem attentive, although her 
mind was intent on only one thing: 
to get away as soon as possible. 

She welcomed the ripple of ap- 
plause that ran over the audience as 
the concert-master took his place on 
the stage. The friends all seemed 
relieved when Larry suggested that 
it was time to find their seats. As 
they turned to enter the balcony, 
Ronald and Jane found themselves 
walking together behind the others. 
He took her arm and slackened his 
pace, letting their friends get a little 
distance ahead of them. 

"Jane, I should like to see you 
sometime. May I call?" 

For a moment memories flashed 
through Jane's mind. It seemed only 
yesterday that they had gone horse- 
back-riding out Laurel Road and got 
caught in a storm. She saw there 
sitting at a table in that quaint old 
Italian restaurant, lingering over a 
bottle of Chianti, discussing Spinoza. 
She remembered the hours they had 

spent together listening to phono- 
graph records, working over scores, 
going to concerts and art exhibits, 
talking, laughing, loving — always 
happy and contented. Perhaps if 
she were to let him call, they could 
have oil that once more. It would 
be so easy to say "yes." But down 
deep in her heart she knew that it 
could never be the same again, that 
the old feeling could never be re- 

"I'm sorry, Ron, but Saturday I'm 
going to Cincinnati to be with Aunt 
Ruth. She's been very ill and we 
don't expect her to recover. I may 
have to be there quite a while." 

"I'm sorry to hear about her. Well, 
maybe I'll see you when you return. 
Anyhow, I'm glad to have had this 
visit with you. Is this your aisle?" 

As she slipped into her seat, she 
looked back and saw Ronald walking 
away from her, brushing back that 
unruly lock of hair that would never 
stay in place. 


By Betty Vernon 

The lights in the whole building 
suddenly flickered and went out as 
though Nature had snuffed out all 
our lamps in one gesture . . . Many 
miles away men were speeding 
through wind and sleet toward a 
high-tension tower. They nimbly 
climbed up the tower, clinging to the 
girders, fighting the strong wind. 
They worked with utmost speed and 
deftness. One false move would cost 
them their lives. The "hot" wires 
held no fear for them. Quickly! 
Quickly! There must be light . . . 
The lamps flashed on in the build- 
ing once more. "Well, it's about 
t-me," muttered the girl across the 

Our Advertisers 

Page Sixteen 


November 5, 1940 


by Clare Stewart '42 

One . . . two . . . one . . . two 
. . . back and forth . . . back and 
forth. His movements were definite, 
beautiful, rhyihmic with the rhythm. 


of the pottery factory where he work- 
ed, putting handles on teacups. 

Put handles on teacups. That was 
all he did all day long, all week long, 
all year long. He swayed with grace 
first to the right to pick up a white, 
unglazed handle; then to the center 
to moisten a white, unglazed cup with 
a bit of liquid glue and press the 
handle to the spot. The swing to 
the center v/as so rapid that it blend- 
ed with the previous swing to the 
right and the following swing to the 
left to place the cup on a continuous 
belt which carried his work to an- 
other part of the factory. 

His rhythm — beautiful figure eight 
curve. Never did it waver, not for 
a second. 

And the man himself became per- 
sonless, a movement, aonther neces- 
sary part of a great machine. His 
eyes fixed ahead of him, his mind 
seemed far away from the swaying 

What did his rhythm mean? Was 
it merely a convenience to enable him 
to finish his work faster? Or was it 
the rhythm of industry, the rhythm of 
great wheels spinning, of turbines and 
and dynamos turning, of railroad 
trains rumbling over the nation? Per- 
haps it was the rhythm of waterfalls, 
of mountains, ridge on ridge, or 
honey-bees in hollyhock. 

It may be the rhythm of music, 
modern music like Shostakovich's 
"Steel Mill" or "Dnieper Water-Pow- 
er Station." Or of a painting, a Grant 
Wood pastoral. 

And — it could be the rhythm of 
monotony. One small action, con- 
tinuous never-ending, offejed little 
variety to the young man. It offered 
little to go home to — a squalid house 
in a squalid district with too many 
children and too much noise. It of- 
fered headaches, tired eyes, and 
deadened thinking powers. Nothing 
better. Little worse. 

One . . . two . . . one . . . two 
. . . back and forth . . . back and 
forth. Rhythm of monotony — release 
from its own self . The swaying 
worker forgot his identity, lost him- 
self in a movement of grace and 
beauty, escaping for a while the 
world to which he belonged. 


For 3-Minute Station-to-Station Calls 

Altoona, Pa 35c 

Chicago, III 85c 

Cleveland, Ohio 40c 

Detroit, Mich 55c 

Hartford, Conn 80c 

Louisville, Ky 75c 

Milwaukee, Wis 90c 

New York, N Y 70c 

Philadelphia, Pa 60c 

Reading, Pa 55c 

State College, Pa 40c 

Washington, D. C 50c 

B These reduced long distance rates are in effect 
every night after 7 and all day Sun- 
day. Take advantage of them to get 
in touch with the folks back home 
and with out-of-town friends. 

Don't Know Where to Eat? 



Our Food Can't Be Beat 
5608 Wilkins Avenue 




3614 Fifth Ave. 

5872 Northumberland St. 

5618 Wilkins Ave. 

Pittsburgh, Pa. 

Through the green poplars 

When the white wind 

Troubles them 

I can see 

The red tile roof 

And white chimneys. 

I can hear 

The little rasping bark 

Of the dogs; 

And cook singing 

In the pantry. 

I can smell 

Wild strawberries. 

I am home. 

— Harden Armstrong '42. 




MOntrose 7777 

HAzel 1012 

Vol. XX 

Pennsylvania College for Women, Pittsburgh, Pa., December 18, 1940 

No. 3 


(See page 3) 

Page Two 


December 18, 1940 


Pennsylvania College for Women 
Pittsburgh, Pa. 

Subscription $1.00 per year in advance 


National Advertising Service, Inc. 

College Publishers Representative , 
A2.0 Madison Ave. ^ New York. N. Y. 

Chicago ■ boston • Los Angeles • San FiiANcrsco 

Editorial Staff 

(Jo Anne Healy '41 
Co-Editors (Jeanne-Anne Ayres '41 

Business Manager Betty Bacon '41 

News Editor Dottie Lou Evans '42 

Assistant News Editor Marion Lambie '43 

Features Editor Jean Burchlnal '42 

Sports Editor Janet Ross '43 

Assistant Sports Editor Phyllis Keister '42 

(Claire Stewart '42 
Copy Editors )Bertha Richards '41 

Make-up Editor Peggy Jane Wragg '43 

Assistant Make-up Editor Mildred Stewart '42 

_, T, J (Rosemarie Filipelli '43 

Copy Readers (Mary K. Strathearn '42 

Faculty Adviser Hazel C. Shupp 

(Claire Horowitz '42 
Typists JMildred Stewart '43 

News Staff 

Joyce Wallis '42. Jane Blattner "44, Nancy Jane Maxwell '44, Mar- 
garet Graham '42, Marjorie Wood "42, Jeanne Condit '44. Charlotte 
Schultz '44, Jean Sweet "43. Jane Brooks '43, Jane Wilmot '42, Mary 
Jane Harter '42, Claire Horwitz "43. 

Feature Staff 

Louise Mclntyre. Margaret Higgins, Dorothy Vale, Jean Faris, Jean 
Miller, Anne K. Driver, Helen R. Moore, Ruth Laird, Marden Arm- 
strong, Ann McClymonds, Nancy Ritchey, Nancy Stauffer, Sally 
Frick, Margaret Griffith, Margaret Malanes, Jean Gray, Jane Zach- 
arias, Mary Lou Henry, Althea Lowe, Jane McCall, Margaret An- 
derson, Dorothy Vale, 

Business Staff 

Alison Croft '42, Jane Fitzpatrick "43, Eleanor Garret "42, Betty Has- 
eltine '42, Virginia Hendrx '43. Margaret Hibbs "42, Alice McKain '42. 
Ruth Patton '42, Louise Rider "43, Anna Betty Saylor "42, Elisabeth 
Shipley '42, Virginia Gillespie '44. Evelyn Fulton '44. 


The Date Bureau takes this opportunity to announce 
that those girls who signed for the PCW-Kisl^i dance, and 
then withdrew without adequate notice, are permanently 
dropped from the Date Bureau list. Like any other stu- 
dent organization, the Date Bureau is based on the co- 
operation of its members; it exists for the benefit of all 
of its members. And although signing for the Date Bureau 
carries no obligation for accepting dates, let it now be 
plainly understood that any member accepting a date 
through the Date Bureau is obligated either to keep that 
date, or to give proper notice of a good reason why it 
shall not be kept. The Date Bureau does not wish again 
to suffer the embarrassment of explaining a contract 
which has been broken by its members. 


Once upon a time there were two houses set on oppo- 
site sides of a deep gulf. One house was secure and 
beautiful, but the other was ravaged by fire and stripped 
bare of its furnishings. In the darkness of one Christmas 
Eve the people in the beautiful house could see across the 
gulf into the windows of the ugly house. They saw there 
people huddled close together, shivering, turning their 
eyes toward the dying light of one sputtering candle. And 
when the people in the beautiful house saw this they were 
ashamed of the brightness of their own light. They were 
afraid that the people whose candle had gone out would 
look across and, seeing the beauty of this other lamp, be 
sad. Then the people in the beautiful house took their 
candle and they hid it under a bushel. So that, when the 
people in the cold bare house across the gulf turned 
searching in their need for light, they found that there 
was only darkness everywhere, 

Americans in their beautiful house are saying it is 
wrong to be joyful when so many are unhappy. Ameri- 
cans cannot bring themselves to believe in the angels 
singing, "Peace on Earth, Good Will To Men." So Amer- 
icans are extinguishing the last remaining light of Christ- 
mas. It is strange because we can still see clearly that 
there is one kind of peace left to men — peace of mind and 
spirit that comes from faith in God, and even in angels 
and stars over mangers. It is felt for us to sing Joy to 
the world with all our voices, to keep the spirit of Christ- 
mas with all our hearts, to hold high our lighted candle 
in order that it may shine for all in the house to see. 


Andrew Mellon Hall is now an integral part of PCW. 
Already school organizations are bidding to be located 
there. It is apparent that in the future, student activity 
will tend to center around this new addition to PCW. But 
we as students, and you as alumnae, and you as faculty 
must healize that there are responsibilities that come with 
the pleasures of using Andrew Mellon Hall . . . pleasant 
responsibilities to be sure, but just as urgent as those 
which come with participation in any worthwhile organ- 
ization. Andrew Mellon Hall, as it is now, is a building • 
to be proud of — a place where spaciousness and beauty 
will make the carrying on of school affairs both dignified 
and gracious. And so it must remain, and can remain if- 
each of us will assume an individual obligation to keep' 
it so. 

The spirit of Andrew Mellon Hall is as yet to be de- 
termined. But witli the occupation of the house by the 
school as a whole, we may look forward to an even clos- 
er dorm and each day student relationshp; to a wider ac- 
quaintance among the alumnae; to a more personal re- 
lationship with the faculty; to more closely-held unity 
between all branches of student and administrative or- 

December 18, 1940 


Page Three 


Moving Day 

Chairs, lamps, boxes and bags 
piled in the halls outside their rooms, 
seniors moved last week to Andrew 
Mellon Hall, lost sleep and other 
things in the process. Chief among 
losses was Pat Kent's man who got 
mislaid while waiting for her. 
Searching through all the chests and 
tapping all the carved woodwork for 
secret panels, she finally discovered 
him on the diving board ready to 
take the leap. Unfortunately, the 
permit for swimming has not yet 
been granted and she was forced to 
restrain him. One man she hoped 
to lose trailed her to her new 
quarters, was not discouraged when 
told she was out, but hung around 
till she came in and followed her 
over to dinner. City authorities, 
supported by public opinion, demand 
she take out a dog license for him 
or else keep him off the street. 

Casually telling the movers that 
a certain box was empty and could 
be thrown away, Jane Pierce almost 
lost the evening dress of the season, 
recovered it gratefully. 
Telephone Trouble 

Troubled over possible phone 
calls, seniors left precise and specific 
instructions with everyone they saw, 
discovered afterwards that there Was 
a phone in their new dorm, heaved 
sighs of relief. 

Jo Anne Healey, precariously bal- 
ancing herself on a radiator while 
hanging drapes, turned to jump, dis- 
covered there was no bare spot on 
which to land. Giving the curious 
effect of flying, she executed come 
successful footwork, landed on one 
toe in the only available square 
Lost and Found 

Suggested aid to new residents of 
Andrew IVIellon Hall wei'e maps or 
a system of wireless communication, 
by which they could contact a central 
oflSce, find out position by describ- 
ing surroundings. Record of lost 
residents to date has been good, was 
almost ruined by Miss Hayford 
(Secretary to the Dean) hunting for 
her garters which had been mislaid. 
Generous students rescued her, lent 
the necessary items, resolved in the 
future that such intimacy deserved 
iirst names. "Dottie" Hayford 
agreed, came to dinner with both 
stockings staying up. 

Completely satisfied with change 

of residence, seniors were particu- 
larly impressed by the soundproof 
rooms, tested them with no disturb- 
ing results. 
Official Declaration 

Just to make it legal. Dr. and Mrs. 
Spencer and Dean Marks entertained 
at a tea Thursday, December 12, for 
the Board of Trustees and the fac- 
ulty. This made the "welcome" 
which replaced the "vacant" on the 
front doormat of Andrew Mellon 
Hall officially binding. Friday after- 
noon an informal open-house mark- 
ed student approval. Last night 
Christmas carolers stopped for a spot 
of hot chocolate and cookies. 
New Auditorium 

New flooring turned the erstwhile 
ten-car garage into an auditorium 
seating a fair-sized audience quite 
comfortably. Here recitals, exhibits, 
modern dance groups will find a new 
home with all the conveniences 
necessary for the presentation of 
t'-ieir programs. 
New Student Quarters 

Student Government and tlie 
YWCA are preparing to hang their 
shingles on Mellon oak-paneling, 
and at the same time the Music de- 
partment is casting longing glances 
in the same direction, as the west- 
ward trek begins. 

Faculty Club 

Long cherished hopes of faculty 
inembers were rewarded last week 
by the formation of a Faculty Club. 
A suite of i-ooms on Andrew Mellon 
Hall's first floor composed of the 
"dining room," the pine-panelled 
"breakfast room," and the Blue Room 
will be the new organization's activ- 
ity center. Serving as a lounge for 
reading, smoking, or relaxing, these 
rooms may occasionally even be used 
for individual parties. 

One night a week (Tuesday ac- 
cording to latest reports) will be the 
time for important get-togethers. 
Swimming, bowling, bridge-playing, 
even perhaps billiards are on the list 
of amusements. 

Appointed last week were Presi- 
dent James Kinder, Vice-President 
Mary Shamburger, Secretary-Treas- 
urer Dorothy Hayford. Acting as ex- 
ecutive committee, they will appoint 
other smaller committees. 

Beamed President Kinder, "We are 
higlily plea?ed, in fact we're enthu- 
siastic about it all!" 

Report from London 

Just back from England last 
month, Erika Mann granted PCW's 
Arrow a special interview Nov. 25. 
No longer known merely as "Thomas 
Mann's daughter," she is now a well- 
known author. Black eyes, dark hair, 
trimmed close to her head, a lithe 
figure heighten her striking person- 
ality. The gold embroidered henna 
dress and chain of rosettes she wore 
were handsome without belonging 
to any known style. As she spoke, her 
long fingers expressed great intens- 
ity of feeling. 
Defies Hitler 

In defiance of Hitler last summer 
she broadcast ten radio speeches 
from London, arousing loud denunc- 
iations from the dictator's official 
newspaper. In spite of Gestapo spy- 
ing, a large number of Germans 
heard her with radios tuned low. 

Tall, lean Miss Mann has been 
a voluntary exile from Geitnany for 
six years, still has enough informa- 
tion from the inside to reveal that 
there is little satisfaction in recent 
victories. People remember the sud- 
den reversal of fortune in 1919. Un- 
derground whispers in Germany are 
wise-cracking that Hitler, StaUn, and 
the Japanese Emperor are "breaking 
bread and treaties toget^r." Even 
the acquisition of countries has 
brought too little tangible improve- 
ment to excite people. In spite of 
all this, she believes, any revolution 
would start in Holland or Norway 
rather than Germany. 

Bus Machine-Gunned 

With nervous, expressive gestures 
she described the eight years of 
"poison" on which all of Germany's 
youth has been fed, declared that all 
under twenty-six know nothing but 
the gods. Force and Hitler. She saw 
one boy aviator whose plane was 
shot down over London, even in his 
last moment of life, machine-gun 
women and children crouched in a 
bus below him. When asked how this 
ingrained sinse of "duty" can ever 
be corrected, she declared it was 
only possible through sudden de- 
feat and complete wiping out of the 
principle of force. Only then will 
the young boys listen to anything 
else. And it will take much time to 
build on their disilllisionment a 
faith in new principles. Thus, for 
the time being, her speeches were 


Page Four 


December 18, 1940 


directed only to those who can re- 
member. Even their thinking is 
drugged by the "poison." They have 
been designed and passive, only now 
beginning to reflect or remember. 

Bottomless Abyss 

Authoress Mann described London 
as she found it, explaining later in 
a speech at the Twentieth Century 
Club that one of her reasons for 
going to England was to discover for 
herself if France's fall meant the 
destruction of all democracy. At the 
end of August there had been little 
bombing of the upper class West 
Side of London. There was resent- 
ment, a half-hearted patriotism, a 
desire among the lower classes even 
then for appeasement. There was, 
she said, "a bottomless abyss be- 
tween the upper and lower classes." 
"We Can Take It" 

Then came the great Blitzkreig and 
indiscriminate bombing. The East 
Side became as one with the West 
Side. For contrast Miss Mann told 
how she saw Churchill visiting bomb- 
ed streets and being hailed with: 
"Hey Winnie! Stick to it! We can 
take it!" She saw "thick tears" roll- 
ing down the unsentimenetal Prime 
Minister's cheeks. 

England is not, she emphasized, a 
plutocracy. Highest statesmen go un- 
armed, unguarded. Hitler, the "peo- 
ple's man," rides in armored cars to 
make secret pacts. The English peo- 
ple seem to know that this is their 
war, fighting for all the world's 
hopes and prayers. 
Few Complaints 

But there is little talk of "hero- 
ism" or "bravery." The people are 
calm and "unnervous," declaring: 

"It's all pretty disgusting and an- 
noying, but as it's got to be done 
we'll do it." Sympathizer Mann never 
heard one disgruntled word from 
even the subway sleepers. 

On top of a London roof Miss 
Mann was broadcasting one day. 
Suddenly a bomb crashed into the 
house opposite. She and the radio 
man were knocked backwards and 
lay flat while their own building 
swayed back and forth. When they 
stood up the B.B. man looked at his 
stop watch and said calmly: 

"Go ahead, please. We lost seven 
Plans Far Just Peace 

Miss Mann believes firmly that 
there can be no prosperous, happy, 
peaceful country under Hitler. He 

can t win a peace based on England's 
defeat. England must win not only 
the war, but also the peace to fol- 
low. Democracy must prove its worth 
by conquering its own weaknesses 
and outworn traditions, and by liber- 
ating enslaved Europe. Even now 
statesmen are woi-king to formulate 
a just peace when it finally comes — 
a peace that will be unable to ignore 
Clarence Streit's "Union Now; which 
will have in it something of a 
unitedi force heretofore unknown 
in history. 

J. A. A. 


About fifty years ago. Phi Kappa 
Phi, National Honorary Scholastic 
Fraternity, was founded. Its Pitts- 
burgh Chapter is located at Carnegie 
Tech. This year Tech's chapter devi- 
ated from its former policy, decided 
to include on its roll, Tech Alumni. 
First to be elected for outstanding 
achievements were PCW President 
Herbert Lincoln Spencer and Miss 
Jean Hartman. 

Saturday night, December seventh, 
following his initiation ceremony, 
new Phi Kappa Phi member Spen- 
cer spoke at the fraternity's annual 
banquet. His subject: "Some Aspects 
of Education and National De- 


PCW was hostess to the second 
meeting of the Archeological Institute 
of America last Wednesday, Decem- 
ber 11. Professor Lotham Johnson 
of the University of Pittsburgh spoke 
about "The Ancient World from the 

PCW has a special interest in the 
Archeological Institute because the 
secretary of the local chapter is 
George M. Swan, father of freshman 
Justine Swan. This organization 
maintained classical, oriental, biblical 
and American Indian schools previous 
to World War II. 

Seeing Silk 

Two of last year's graduates col- 
lected first hand information on cloth 
November 27. Gathering material 
for Dr. Wallace's book Textiles and 
the Housewife, Louise Lean and 
Eleanor GanglofE observed the act- 
ual weaving of cloth and the mak- 

ing of ribbons at the Bethlehem Silk 
Company. With author Wallace, 
they also visited the R. K. Laros 
Company, saw the silk in its raw 
state as it arrives from China, Japan, 
or Italy, and followed it through to 
its emergence as a finished product. 
Shipped in bales, the silk some- 
times has thread twenty-five miles 
long. The R. K. Laros Company is 
also known for its work in collabora- 
tion with Dupont in experiments 
with Nylon. 

Jewish Council 

Composed of students from the five 
city colleges and universities, the 
Jewish Student Council of the Y. M. 
& Y. W. H. A., has a large representa- 
tion from PCW this year. For the past 
five years the council has served as 
a coordinating means among the 
Jewish students of various colleges 
who have common intex'ests. Quite a 
spirit of rivalry exists at the meet- 
ings, with the delegation from Mount 
Mercy or Pitt trying to drown out 
Tech or PCW students in singing 
their respective school songs. Any 
who do not already belong to the 
organization are invited to attend the 
meetings, held every other Wednes- 

Candlelight Ball 

started last year, the Candlelight 
Ball is becoming a Junior Prom tra- 
dition at PCW, will be held this 
year on Feb. 26, at the University 

Decorating the main room of the 
University Club has been given over 
entirely to the florist while the com- 
mittee is giving their thoughts and 
resources cojnpletely to the ritual of 
PCW's Candlelight Ball. 


Particularly active in war relief 
at PCW is the Secours Franco- 
American, established to aid French 
refugees in England. Under its able 
director Madame Owens, Pittsburgh 
chapter president, and Mrs. Shupp, 
advisor to the group at PCW, the 
SFA has a very full program ahead. 

Chief concern of the French relief 
group at present is a raffle schedul- 
ed to be held after vacation. Raffle 

December 18, 1940 


Page Five 


tickets will be sold at ten cents each 
and to the lucky winner will go a 
useful makeup kit. 

Equally important on the SF-A 
agenda is the picture, Mayerling. 
which will come as a welcome relief 
from finals. IMarjorie Noonan is in 
charge. However, the SF-A is not 
deserting its knitting and it looks as 
though there will be plenty of bright 
red mittens for Christmas. Penny 
banks have also been distributed 
under the management of Jane Blatt- 

Under Discussion 

Faculty and student representa- 
tives joined last week in the first 
SFA meeting of the year. Main points 
o* discussion were PCW's dramatic 
program, disposal of profits from the 
Coca Cola machine. 

The discussion of the dramatic 
program came in the form of a rec- 
ommendation from the student rep- 
resentatives that an attempt be 
made to determine the reasons for 
the poor attendance and general lack 
of interest of the student body in 
PCW plays. It was suggested that 
the type of play given might be more 
popularly decided. When the ques- 
tion of late practice hours arose, it 
was decided that much of the prob- 
lem has been due to faulty equip- 
ment. In the future, with the new 
stage equipment, it should be pos- 
sible to schedule early rehearsals and 
start them on time. 

Representative Committee 

It was suggested that since tickets 
to the major dramatic productions 
are purchased by students automat- 
ically on payment of the Activities 
Fee, and since the dramatic group 
program is thus mainly supported 
by Student Government, SGA should 
be in charge of appointing a repre- 
sentative committee to help select 
plays designed to stimulate student 
Coca Cola Profits 

Next under discussion by the SFA 
was the Coke machine. A report of 
the expenses and profits of the ma- 
chine indicated that a net profit of 
at least $22.00 a month might be ex- 

It was suggested that after Christ- 
mas the machine be taken over by 
SGA, the three girls now operating 
it to be paid a flat rate per week 
until the end of the year. It was also 

suggested that the excess profits be 
allowed to accrue toward a schol- 
arship, or that the money be given 
to SGA for distribution as it saw 

Dec. 11. Discussing the question 
of Coke machine profits at their 
meeting today. Student Government 
Board members were unwilling to 
say where the profits will go until 
a more definite estimate can be made 
of the probable amount. Since the 
money comes from the entire student 
body, the board favored using the 
profits for something which would 
benefit the whole school rather than 
any one organization. It was decided 
to wait until spring to make a defin- 
ite decision. If there are several 
equally good suggestions submitted 
then, a vote will be taken; otherwise 
the SGA board will decide upon tlie 
disposal of the funds. 


Dual Dance 

"There will be a sound of revelry" 
tonight at the annual PCW Christmas 
dances. In the dorm a formal ban- 
Quiet for the girls only will precede 
the dance. Now planning for the big 
event are members of the House 
Board headed by president Jean Mc- 
Gowan '41, who has announced that 
the popular Jimmie Stewart Band 
will play for the dance. A big Christ- 
mas tree with holly, mistletoe and 
"all the trimmin's" will decorate 
Woodland Hall, according to Presi- 
dent McGowan and staff. 

While the dorm dwellers are danc- 
ing to the Stewart Band, the day stu- 
dents will be tripping to the tunes of 
Bob Mason's Orchestra playing in the 
chapel. Headed by Doris Dodds '43, 
the dance committee is made up en- 
tirely of Sophomores who promise a 
gay time for all plus a red and green 
disguise for the Chapel. 


"Come all ye faithful" — bring your 
mittens, mufflers, heavy coats and 
old sweaters! Come — come and sing! 
This was the cry made Tuesday eve- 
ning when the student body of PCW 
turned out for the annual Christmas 
caroling along Woodland Road. 

The caroling up and down the road, 
with freqeunt stops to hunt some- 

one's mittens or to carol a favorite 
for some particular household, and 
the reception afterward in the new 
Andrew Mellon Hall were the high 
spots of the evening. 

First Stop 

Leader Gertrude N. Ayres, of the 
PCW music department, led the band 
of carolers. Starting from Berry 
Hall they wound up and down Wood- 
land Road, singing lustily. First 
stop was the President's house. 

The party in Andrew Mellon Hall 
afterward was in charge of Jean Hill 
'41 who had Mary Kinter '41, Bar- 
bara Maerker '42, and Nancy Lou 
Filer '44 on the refreshment com- 

The gathei-ing broke up with the 
familiar comment; best yet. 

Children's Party 

Christmas parties at PCW aren't 
anly for the students. Monday, De- 
cember 16, found a lot of happy, ex- 
cited kiddies from Kingsley House, 
Davis Home for Colored Children, 
and Sarah Heinz House having a gay 
time at the party in PCW's gym. 
Santa Claus (alias Elizabeth Frey 
and committee) had set up a tree 
which pleased the children no end. 
They helped to decorate it when they 
began to come about 4 o'clock. 

Fun For All 

Games provided much fun and 
laughter not only for the little peo- 
ple there but also for the hostesses. 
When everyone began to feel hun- 
gry, food was brought on the scene. 
What was more, a huge box of de- 
lightful gifts was brought in, too, 
and each child reached into the box. 
pulled out a package all wrapped up 
in Christmas style. 

Eats and Carols 

While the children ate, students 
from the Children's Literature Class 
told stories, and everyone sang 
Christmas carols. All sixty children 
were taken home again, loudly talk- 
ing about their party. 

Committee in charge of the festivi- 
ties included Margaret Hibbs, Eliz- 
abeth Shipley, Mildred Rudinsky, 
Jean Miller, Mary K. Strathearn, 
and Mary Schweppe, who provided 
the tree, refreshments, and games. 
Other hostesses at the party were 
the girls who do volunteer work at 
the settlement houses. 

Page Six 


December 18, 1940 



Two performances Sunday, De- 
cember 15, marked grand finale of 
four weeks rehearsing for the annual 
Christmas Program. This year a 
modernized version of Chester's 
"Nativity" was presented in pageant 
form, combining efforts of Glee Club 
and Verse Speaking Choir. 

Background music, directed by 
Mrs. Ayers, was very early music 
of the Church. In order of occur- 
rence was heard Gregorian Chant, 
one verse of an old Medieval Christ- 
mas song, a modern version of Vene's 
"Balulalaw," and Gloria, O Come, 
sung by Jane Hanauer, and Seven- 
fold Amen by Staner. 
Modern Dance Group 

Barbara Heinz, Marion Teichman, 
Barbara Shupp, Doris Hutcheson, and 
Jeanne Condit from Miss Jones' 
modern dance group formed back- 
ground and accompaniment for pan- 


In the pantomimes, directed by 
Miss Robb, wei-e Joyce Wallis — Ma- 
donna, Janet McCormicl^ — Joseph, 
Barbara Cooper — Elizabeth, and Ann 
Butler — Gabriel. Corresponding 
parts in Verse Speaking Choir were 
held by Lorraine Wolf as the Ma- 
donna, Helen Jane Taylor — Joseph, 
Elizabeth Warner — Elizabeth, and 
Aileen Chapman — Gabriel . Other 
parts were taken by Virginia Gray — 
Trowle, Elinor Keffer — Hankin, Eliz- 
abeth Rowse — Sym, Marion Lambie 
— Tud, Connie Meyer — Jaspar, Jean 
Hill — Melchior, and Claire Horo- 
witz — Balthasar . 

New Postcards! 

PCW will go modern! Miss 
Weigand's office will soon be dec- 
orated with new postcards. In- 
stead of the old ones with '29 Fords 
we will be buying new 1940 views. 

The six new postcards include such 
views as: the Hly pond at Mellon 
Hall; Mary Lou Henry and Nancy 
Doerr, sophomores, strolling up the 
beautiful hilltop campus on PCW; 
the natural amphitheatre of PCW; 
the Louise C. Buhl Hall of Science 
and the James Laughlin Library; a 
group of this year's freshmen in the 
gardens of the Andrew Mellon Hall; 
and the new Hall itself. 

These cards may either be pur- 
chased in black and white or brown 
and white. They will sell at two for 
a nickle. The order placed Satur- 
day, December 7, will be filled soon 
after Christmas vacation. 


A few years ago, Pennsylvania's 
Swarthmore college initiated a new 
type of contest. Its purpose: to 
recognize the students who had ac- 
cumulated personal libraries during 
their college years and to encourage 
others to do so. Its participants: 
college seniors. Its requirements: a 
library, gathered by the student, 
during his four college years, ac- 
cording to his own taste and judg- 
ment. Since neither the financial 
value, nor number of books was con- 
sidered, the award was given solely 
on the basis of individual selection, 
originality of search, or thorough- 
ness of scope in any one field. 

PCW Takes It Up 

Now for the first time PCW Fac- 
ulty and Student Library Commit- 
tees are jointly sponsoring such a 
contest, to be held after Spring Vaca- 
tion. If there is an encouraging re- 
sponse of interest and number of 
contestants, the award 'will become 
.in annual event. The Faculty 
Committee having as chairman PCW 
Librarian Harriet McCarty, also in- 
cludes Dr. Carl W. Doxsee, Miss Effie 
L. Walker. Dr. Nita L. Butler, and 
Miss Margaret Kaeiser; Student, Jane 
O'Neill, chairman, Margaret Hibbs. 
Althea Lowe, Dale Kirsopp. The 
prize to be otTered to the senior ■who 
enters the best personal library: ten 
Chairman Explains 

Wrote Chairman McCarty: "There 
are girls who like to dance, for them 
we have junior proms; there are girls 
who like tennis, for them we organize 

"There are girls who like books. 
For them we are arranging a Per- 
sonal Library Contest. There are 
girls who are happy in owning Mac- 
Leish's Conquistador, in acquiring 
the large, illustrated edition of 
Chartres and Mont San Michel at a 
remainder sale. They haunt book 
sales as some girls haunt other bar- 
bain sales. 

"For the first time on PCW cam- 
pus, this kind of girls is to have rec- 
ognition. The girl who is enthusiastic 

about books, who at the end of her 
senior year has collected a library — 
maybe not more than a dozen titles — 
which expresses her taste and her 
judgment, may be awarded a prize. 
The Faculty and Student Library 
committee hope to discover some 
ardent bibliophiles." 


I. A prize of $10.00 will be given 
to the senior who has acquired the 
best personal library during her col- 
lege years. 

II. All books shall be the personal 
property of the contestant and shall 
bear a bookplate or other owner- 
ship inscription. 

III. The libraries shall be judged 
on their evidence of discriminating 
judgment in selecting books and as 
forming a nucleus for a personal li- 
brary after college. 

IV. Neither the size of the library, 
nor its money value shall have weight 
in the judging, and titles of a dis- 
tinctly text-book character shall be 

V. The judges will be persons 
familiar with and interested in lit- 
erature but not members of adminis- 
tration or faculty. 

There will be a public exhibition 
of the libraries entered. 

Mellon Gift 

Among Mr. Paul Mellon's numer- 
ous gifts to PCW, is a 2 by 2 East- 
man slide projector. This projector 
is new and in perfect working con- 
dition — perfect enough to be available 
for use by all departments. It may 
be reserved through the college Film 
Service Library and will take a 35- 
mm film. This of course means that 
those using the projector may use 
their own camera films if they so 

New Films 

Recent additions to the PCW Film 
Service Library are five Vocational 
Guidance films. Secured at consid- 
erable cost, these films were produc- 
ed under sponsorship of Dr. A. P. 
Twogood of Iowa State College. The 
titles which have been released to 

December 18, 1940 


Page Seven 




Miss Margaret Ann Stuart, secre- 
tary and assistant treasurer here at 
PCW, died suddenly of a heart at- 
tack, November 19, at her home, 1017 
Lancaster Street, Regent Square. 

Miss Stuart came to Pittsburgh 
from Springfield, Ohio, in 1909 as sec- 
retary to the president of the col- 
lege. A few years later she Vi'as 
named to the post she held at the 
time of her death. 

The daughter of the late Alexan- 
der and Mary Sloan Stuart, Miss 
Stuart took an active interest in civic 
affairs. She was a member of the 
Third Presbyterian Church, the 
Women's Civic Club, the Colloquium 
Club, and the Eastern Association of 
College and University Business Of- 

Miss Stuart is survived by her sis- 
ter. Miss Sarah B. Stuart, with whom 
she lived, and her nieces. Miss Mary 
Stuart of Coraopolis and Mrs. John 
Muhlheiser of Somerset. 

Funeral services were held in her 
home. November 21 at 4:30 o'clock. 
Burial was in Urbana, Ohio. 


Mrs. William N. Fre^«'. since 1920 a 
member of the board of trustees, died 
last home at her home, 6.'il6 Fifth 
Avenue, following a long illness. 

Mrs. Frew, the former Emily 
Berry, was the daughter of James 
Berry who built Berry Hall. She 
was born in Berry Hall and lived 
there with her family until the pro- 
perty was turned over to the col- 

Mrs. Frew is survived by a son, 
William N. Frew, who is an attorney, 
in the city. 


New Degree 

Ambitious young Dr. Robb, still 
known (by her own request) as 
"Miss Robb," has just received her 
Doctor's degree from Columbia Uni- 
versity. Miss Robb wrote her thesis 
on "Historical Study o'' Methods Us- 
ed in Oral Interpretations of Litera- 
ture in American Colleges and Uni- 

Amusing Gestures 

Almost every afternoon last year 
found Miss Robb at Carnegie Li- 
brary plowing through old text 
books, some of them rare editions, 
studying the methods of oral inter- 
pretation used from 1760 to the pres- 
ent day. Miss Robb said that the 
study of the gestures used in past 
years was the most amusing part of 
her study. Many photostats add an 
interesting touch to Miss Robb's 
thesis, which will go to press the 
first of the year. 

Miss Robb, Assistant Professor of 
Speech, teaches — not oral interpreta- 
tion of literature — but freshman 
classes in Fundamentals of Speech, 
classes in Public Discussion, Chil- 
dren's Literature, and Teaching of 
Speech in the Secondary School. 

Visited Egypt 

A member of the Student-Faculty 
Committee, the Scholarship Commit- 
tee, the Activities Council, and a fac- 
ulty member of the Young Women's 
Christian Association, Professor Robb 
has always taken interest in students 
and their activities. In 1939 Miss 
Robb directed the annual production 
with W & J, "You Can't Take It 
With You." 

Receiving her Masters degree from 
Iowa University. Miss Robb later 
studied at Northwestern University. 
Before coming to PCW she taught 
at Huron College, Huron, South Da- 
kota; American College, Cairo, 
Egypt; and Texas Woman's College, 
Fort Worth, Texas. 

Permanent Gavel 

For the last time on Dec. 11th, Dr. 
E. K. Wallace presided as chairman 
of the American Chemical Society. 
At this monthly meeting, held in Car- 
negie Music Hall, the society offered 
its first public lecture to be given in 
Pittsburgh, on "Glass: Today and 
Tomorrow" by Dr. Alexander Silver- 
man. A tone poem, "The Legend of 
Glass," was played by Dr. Harvey 
Gaul. This tone poem, the first mu- 
sical composition written on the 
theme of glass, was composed and 
played by Dr. Gaul especially for this 
meeting. The gavel which Dr. Wal- 
lace used during the past year as 
chairman of the society was present- 
ed to him at the close of the meeting 
as a gift from the society. He was 
elected as a counselor on retirement 
from the chairmanship. 


For the past two months Aileen 
Chapman, '42, has been working as 
a member of the Wayside Theater, a 
dramatic group which presents a 
play every Monday evening at 8 
o'clock over station WWSW. Directed 
by Mr. John Davis, the Wayside The- 
ater group holds its only rehearsal 
the afternoon before the perform- 
ance. Aileen, very enthusiastic about 
her dramatic work, is always anx- 
ious to see Monday afternoon roll 


Being with a school for thirty-one 
years certainly gives one an ad- 
vantagie over the poor students who 
usually stay for only four. One of 
the most interesting people in the 
college, Minerva rules lier switch- 
board with an iron liand, knows more 
about the school, past and present, 
than she cares to tell. Born in Cham- 
bersburg. Pa., where she lived most 
of her life, Minerva came to PCW 
in 1909, at first ruled the dates in 
Berry Hall Dorm. "Too much sus- 
pense over late arrivals" was her 
verdict on that, though she enjoyed 
seeing the girls' dates. When the new 
dorm was built Minerva was trans- 
ferred 1o the switchboard, now says 
she "knows the boy-friends" voices 
better than the girls'." 


Around Town 

Chr'stmas — the season of good 
cheer — When every heart is gay and 
songs \'erge on the Yuley, And 
everyone is joyous and content as 
befits the time of year — Everyone 
that is except YOURS TRULY. We 
are sorry to say that on account of 
Xmas shopping, our feet are tired 
and with a little encouragement we 
could get hopping Mad, and besides 
people are too busy to do anything 
worth Writing about — and so there 
is a decided dearth of news, so just 
to be different, we'U wish you a 
Merry Xmas and Happy New Year. 

Ded'cation — "Isn't that just like 
love" — to our friends who are leav- 
ing us for better things — Lois Wirth 

Page Eight 


December 18, 1940 


has announced her marriage and is 
now under the nom de plume of 
Lois Wolf. A. Chapman and M. Wood 
are ringed in; and membership in 
the P. P. U. has expanded to in- 
clude Sally Thomas, Marjorie Harter, 
Jeannette Myers, and Barbara Coop- 
er. Women about town — L. Painter, 

J. Strem, L. Haldeman, G. Gilles- 
pie, J. McClung, J. Baer, and B. 
Weil at the William Penn — D. L. 
Evans, C. Wolf, G. Cooper, B. Som- 
ers, M. Boileau, J. Burchinal, J. Mc- 
Gowan at Kahn's — J. Miller with 
"the" man and D. Minneci at the 
Balconades — M. Stewart, M. J. Daley 
and J. McCall at the Playhouse. 

Just among we 3 — hundred; A. 
Chattaway received a bottle of Pink 
Party as a peace offering from Billy. 
S. Birrell an orchid for the same. 
Dotty Carey met a policeman on the 
Boulevard o*' the Allies — when she 
appeared at court, he destroyed the 
ticket. R. Case is still trying to re- 
cover from her glorious week-end 
at Penn State. J. Pierce tried to make 
us believe she had returned her pin 
when she had merely lent it to the 
jeweler. The Winchester girls made 
a big mistake in giving up that Kisl'Ci 

One for Mendel is Frosh Nancy- 
Maxwell. One of a set of twins — she 
has a pair of younger twin brothers. 
Too bad — that they're younger, we 

And one for the books is Frosh 
Leona Painter receiving a telegram 
in the library. 

Things we are waiting to see — 
those colored tank-suits the gals will 
wear, if and when the State permit 
comes; the night classes of soldiers 
soon to be invading our campus; 
more hamburgers on Tuesdays! 

Underclass-women gave Shadyside 
Academy a break when P. Wriglit, 
N. P. Maxwell, P. Leonard and D. 
Dodds migrated to the Football-Soc- 
cer dance — Doris and lier escort won 
the prize for the best dancers. When 
do the lessons start, Doris? And 
that's about all until Xmas vacation, 
which, by the way, will find Brazil- 
ian student, Yvonne da Silva and 
Rosemae Barck with The Spencer's; 
J. Pierce in Florida; J. Shook cab- 
ining in the Pennsylvania inountains: 
and J. Sweet visiting in Marietta. 
Ye Eds. will spend Xmas in the 
chimney — waiting for Santa Claus. 

H. L. M.— M. H. 

At The Zoo 

"... troll the ancient Yuletide 
ca.ol, fa la la la la la la la la . . ." 

Lawrence, the kangaroo at High- 
land Park Zoo was humming as he 
twined the laurel chain in and out 
between the bars of his cage. He 
gave a little skip, then bowed to the 
right and left, and began again. 

"Deck the halls with boughs of 
holly ..." 

"It's the only thing he knows," ex- 
plained the keeper apologetically to 
your PCW Reporter, "he just sings it 
over and over, and never seems to get 
tired of it." 

"He's very artistic," remarked Your 

Lawrence had tied the laurel chain 
into a neat bow at every fifth bar, 
and was now pinning red berries to 
the center of each one. Because his 
mouth was full of pins his version of 
the old song was somewhat burgled, 
sounding like, 

"Glig gler glarls glig gloughs glog 
glolly ..." 

And the tone was slightly strained. 
But it had spirit nevertheless, and his 
little eyes twinkled. 

"I'd very much like to interview 
him." said Your Reporter. 

"Shhh," said the keeper, looking 
around cautiously, and with a secre- 
tive gesture he beckoned her closer, 
"Lawrence is very sensitive about 
publicity. Just pretend that you're a 
'Friend of the Zoo' looking the place 
over. Thinking of giving an endow- 
ment perhaps." 

Your Reporter nodded, and walked 
over to the cage. 

"Good afternoon," she said sweetly. 

"Glurg," was what Lawrence an- 
swered. His mouth was still luU of 

These he soon removed with dig- 
nity, and looking your reporter up 
and down, said with a faint trace of 
an Oxford accent: 

"You're a newspaper reporter, I 

Your Astonished Reporter nodded 

"And you'd like a statement for 
the press about how we spend Christ- 
mas here?" 

Another nod from Your Speechless 

"Well," he said, a trifle supercil- 
iously, "we have the usual Christmas 
tree — lights and colored popcorn, you 

know — routine stuff. And then 
there're always gingerbread men and 
chocolate in red and green tinfoil for 
the children." 

Your Reporter made a note. Law- 
rence was warming to his subject. 

"We also go carolling — carry a lan- 
tern and everything. Of course, 
there's only one really worth sing- 

And he began to hum again. 

"I don't hold with those new-fang- 
led ones — 'Joy to the World,' etc. — no 
sir, give me a good old fashioned one 
like 'Deck the Halls.' I'm a trifle par- 
tial to that one," he beamed cheer- 

"I'm English, you know," he chort- 
led, "on my father's side." 

After a short pause he asked hope- 
fully, "Would you like to hear me 
sing it?" 

"Well," Your Reporter said hastily, 
"there were some other things ..." 

"Oh, you mean Santa Claus?" 

Your Reporter nodded. 

"Good old S. C. — great fellow, great 
fellow. We fought in the Boer War 

And with this he launched into a 
long story, and refought the war 
from beginning to end. Your Report- 
er made several notes but has since 
lost them. 

After ten minutes of this, she ven- 
tured to break in with a feeble, 
"What about ..." 

"Decorations?" boomed Lawrence, 
"why we always have them. Laurel 
and holly, and of course mistletoe." 

And he winked, and gave Your 
Reporter a poke through the bars. 

"Ha, ha," he giggled, "mistletoe — 
get it?" 

He simply melted away into gales 
of laughter, and his face became quite 
purple. Your Reporter was about to 
get him a drink of water when he 
finally subsided. 

He drew out of his pocket an enor- 
mous silver watch and held it up- 
side down while he looked at it. 

"Sorry," he said, "I allow only five 
minutes a day for press conferences. 
If you want any more information 
come back tomorrow." 

He stalked away, and took up the 
laurel chain where he had left it. Re- 
membering his good manners he 
turned and said, 

"Have a merry Christmas." 

And as Your Reporter walked 
away she could hear him singing, 

"Deck the haUs with boughs of 
holly, fa la la la la la la la la . . ." 

December 18, 1940 


Page Nine 


Letter To Santa 

This seems to be the season for 
letter s-to-o 1 d-Saint-Nick-depart- 
ments, so before it's too late, we of 
PCW would like to get our bids in. 
When Kris Kringle comes leaping 
down the chimney come December 
25, we hope he has tucked away in 
his pack some small items to make 
life happier for our PCW girls. 
Attention Santa Claus 

For example: we think the girls 
in room 210 in the dorm should 
have some much-needed illumina- 
tion, and please, dear Santa, more 

For Miss Graham, we ask a lock 
for the ping-pong room to keep her 
9:30 class in 'till the bell rings. 

For Mary Linn, a singing alarm 
clock, requested by room mate Mc- 
Goon who, incidentally, has ex- 
pressed a wish for an automatic 
shusher for the dorm during study 
Lady Without A Lamp 

Speaking of study hours. Peg 
Schar would please like something 
done about her study lamp, lost by 
the dance committee way back in 
the night of the fall formal. 

For Gladys Patton. a frigid phys- 
iognomy to be donned for chapel 
court; for Beth Howard, a new, im- 
proved, and unabridged shorthand 

Jo Healey needs some form of 
perpetual ARROW cover, one that 
could be varied slightly with the 
changing seasons. 

For the residents of Andrew Mel- 
lon Hall, some new furniture, so they 
may begin all over again. Also con- 
cerning A.M.H. — a red-tape elimina- 
tor, so we may try that swimming 
And Milton For The English Majors 

And, dear Santa, please bring big- 
ger and better masculine enrollment 
in the date bureau. Also bring Mil- 
ton to the "Milton and 17th Century" 
class in Eng. Lit. 

For all of us, from Jean Sweet, a 
dissertation on how to tell love at 
first sight. For all of us, from Burchi, 
a new before-breakfast personality. 

Janet Murray pleads for more 
bandage-makers for the British War 
Relief . . . Mary Singer's plea: "No 
more sea-boots, please!" 
Tuesday Hamburg^ers 

General requests: (1) a dividend 
for all those girls who put three 
nickels in and get two cokes out of 

the coke machine. (2) Two or more 
hamburgers to a customer at the 
10:30-on-Tuesday snack period. 

Margaret Anderson and Petey Mc- 
Call request no more speakers and 
no more symposia for Mrs. Shupp's 
journalism class. 

Dotty Oliver wants to find some- 
one who hasn't heard abotJt her new 

Anna Betty Saylor and Alice Mc- 
Kain pray that, time and yarn per- 
mitting, they'll have those Argyle 
socks finished by Christmas. Skip- 
per Clipson hopes she gets to Can- 
ada, also by Christmas. 
Let's Be Specific 

And now, Santa, we come to a list 
of specific items for specific people: 
Betty Bacon yearns for a live duck. 
Sis Weller has her heart set on an 
apartment, and Adelaide Mitchell 
wants II Duce, too. 

We hear that Phyll Keister is on 
the lookout for a new brownie reci- 
pe for Harvard, and Midge Norris 
v/ants a reduction in special deliv- 
ery rates. Margie Graham needs 

Sally Thomas wants a guaranteed, 
sure-fire guard for her Pi K.A. pin 
. . . Betty Sundberg wants Notre 
On The Negative Side 

To add to these heart-felt desii^es, 
we have several negative requests 
to make. PLEASE. Santa, no more 
surprise packages for Pat Kent, and 
equally as urgent, no more men in 
the draft. 

With cries of "Tell him I want a 
man!" ringing in our ears, we find 
that it is time for us to close. Do 
what you can for us, dear Santa. 
We're depending on you to come 
through in your usual manner, mak- 
ing this the best Christmas ever) 
Hopefully yours. 
From Those Girls Up On 
the Hill. J. U. W. 

Shopping List 

With Christmas only a snow^y day 
in the future and your gift list still 
incomplete (if you're like us) here 
may lie your solution. 

To your room-mate give a hand 
made pique bed spread with a large 
letter monogram in contrasting color 
or a musical alarm clock to help 
her make her 8:30 class. 
Tricky Trays 

In the lower price scale there are 

the pig skin cigarete cases with the 
spring top that pop out your "fags." 
Also very tricky for your nicotine 
friends are the macthbox holders 
and ashtrays of silver plated copper. 
Or — there are always compacts which 
the modern glamour girl can't be 
without. Give her one of the stun- 
ning new crystalite compacts with 
scalloped edges, just the thing to 
carry in her new bisque felt evening 
bag, with jewelled clasp and mauve 
Scents Are Appealing 

For your best friend (that problem 
child who has everything) Harriet 
Hubbarb Ayer has found the solu- 
tion in a set of Pink Clover scented 
articles. Thei'e is a generous size 
bottle of cologne to make her smell 
sweet, and a large box of oowder to 
last her a lifetime — or be the first to 
introduce the new candy cane lip- 
sticks that come all wrapped up in 
a large red and white can, accom- 
panied by a box of fragrant talcum. 

If she's a ski enthusiast, hand knit 
"skeepers" will keep her feet warm 
while she sips that cup of hot choco- 

A set of three perfumes which look 
like a castle and goes by the same 
name "Le Castle" is the product of 
Lncien Le Long and ever so popular 
with the younger set. 
The Male Element 

That solves the female side of this 
problem, we hope, and we turn to a 
harder one — what to give the man 
or men in your life? There are al- 
ways the age old stand-bys. gloves 
and socks — this year the gloves come 
all wrapped up in a brand new ma- 
terial — snake skin — that wears for- 
ever and always looks brand new. 
They say Mr. Esquire was wearing a 
pair at the Stork Club the other 
night. In the line of socks there's 
nothing snapnier than the new 
Argyle socks that come in all kinds- 
of plaids. 

Something new in the line of men's 
gifts is the extension kev chain or 
perhaps a Ronson cigai-ette case and 
lighter. Both to be had for a mere 

In the wav of glamour for i'^e play 
boy friend of yours, there is the new 
alligator skin wallet and key case to 

Well, girls, here's to a very Merry 
Christmas for you and your friends 
and we'll be seeing you and Mr. Es- 
quire at the Christmas Formal. 

M. A., P. McC. 

Page Ten 


December 18, 1940 



ISew Workshop 

Innovation in the music department 
is the workshop composed of various 
groups of students who meet once 
every two or three weeks, to per- 
form before each other. Afterwards 
they have first chance to criticize 
themselves, then their classmates give 
helpful hints. Workshops have al- 
ready been conducted for piano, 
voice, and organ. In the future other 
instruments will be featured, and 
several programs will consist of a 
combination of various instruments. 
Students composing music are given 
the opportunity to ti-y it out on an 
audience. Various weaknesses and 
strengths are unearthed. 

Lending Library 

Tucked away in Room 4 in Music 
Hall is PCW's record library. Owing 
to the efforts of Miss Held, Miss 
Welker and the Music Department 
the library now numbers some 300 
volumes. Almost every composer of 
any merit is represented from old 
to new. Scores and program notes 
from symphonies and operas are to 
be had for the asking. 
New Record Series 

Newest addition, gift of the Music 
Department, is the Sun-Telegraph 
Ser-'es featuring the music of Bach, 
Brahms, Debussey, Mozart, Schubert, 
Tschaikowsky, Wagner and Franck. 
Other volumes range from Gregor 
ian Chants, Early Choral Music of 
15th and 16th centuries to American 
ballads by Miles aiid Sandburg and 
quartettes and quintettes. Instru- 
mental works are represented by 
Brahms, Beetlioven, Gershwin, and 
Whiteman. The best music to be 
found is in the symphony selections. 

Records are catalogued according 
to composition and composer, may 
be kept out one week. The library 
and victrola are open to all stud°nt.s 
from 1:30 to 3:30 week days. 

Listening Group 

Musically-interested students have 
formed a Metropolitan Opera Listen- 
ing Group under the extraordinarily 
able direction of Pat Kent. Material 
sent by the opera company reveals 
the stories hitherto hidden in gut- 
terals and rolling r's. The haze of 
ignorance is somewhat lifted by in- 
formal talks given by minor musical 
authorities around campus. 

PCW Presents 

On the air for PCW! By virtue of 
the recently adopted measure of the 
Pittsburgh radio stations to use as 
much local talent as possible, PCW 
has attained four programs on sta- 
tion WWSW. To initiate this series 
Louisa May Alcott's Little Women, 
presented by Aileen Chapman, Jean 
Hill, Alice Chattaway, Alice Provost, 
Vance Hyde and Marjorie Wood, was 
given last Sunday, December 15, 
at 8:45 P. M. On Friday evening, De- 
cember 20, at 8:45, the radio class, 
under the direction of Vanda E. 
Kerst, assisted by Mr. Stickley, will 
present Bird's Christmas Carol, 
dramatized from Kate Douglas Wig- 
gin's story by the advanced compo- 
sition class under the direction of 
Mrs. Hazel Cole Shupp. 

Christmas Progrram 

Drama student Jean Hill will pre- 
sent the third program in the series 
on Saturday morning, December 21, 
at 11 o'clock. She will tell a chil- 
dren's Christmas story. And the 
fourth and final program, a half hour 
presentation on Sunday evening, De- 
cember 22, at 8:45, will consist of 
Christmas poetry and carols old and 
new and two Bible stories. In this 
presentation the Verse Spealdng 
Choir, under the direction of Miss 
Kerst, a chorus of six voices direct- 
ed by Mrs. Ayres will participate. 
Mr. Collins will play a musical back- 
ground which he arranged. 



February 21 lurks closely around 
the corner, with the ominous class 
play contest scheduled for that night. 
Right in there pitching will be the 
class of '44, committees as yet un- 
decided upon the relative merits of 
original and experienced drah-mas. 
Calling a meeting Dec. 2, the fresh- 
man chose committee heads, upon 
whom will rest responsibility. Chair- 
men are: Writing — Suzanne Mc- 
Lean; Stage Crew — Tillie Wilcox; 
Make-up — Justine Evans; Costumes — 
Charlotte Schultz; and Casting — Mar- 
tha McCullough. Probable director 
and major domo Jeanne Condit 
played the Fairy Queen in "The 
Prince of Pantoufia." 


Under the general chairmanship 
of Catherine Watson, the sophomores 
are busy with their play. The writ- 
ing committee, headed by Janet 
McCormick and Betty Vernon, has 
decided upon the plot and title of 
their production. The situation con- 
cerns a group of sophomore girls 
who decide to bury their past, but 
run into tremendous difficulties 
when they realize that they need 
the objects so carelessly disposed of. 
Giving it the title "A Grave Situa- 
tion," chairmen Vernon and Mc- 
Cormick promise that it will be fun- 
ny, are confident of success in the 

In charge of costumes for the pro- 
duction is Marion Lambie, who an- 
ticipates little trouble since the 
clothes are those worn by modern 
college girls. Casting will be man- 
aged by Marjorie Newman, and Jane 
McCall is in charge of scenery. 

No director has been named as 


Returning to the nineties by the 
back door, the Juniors will burlesque 
the old-fashioned hero-always-wins- 
villain-always-loses m e 1 o d r a m. a. 
Writing committee for the play con- 
sists of Jean Paris, Jean Miller, Peg 
Matheny, Sunny Croft, Mary K. 
Strathearn, Marjorie Wood, Jane 
Chantler, Marden Armstrong, and 
Chairman Jean Burchinal. Only def- 
inite things as yet are the plot (a 
jealously-guarded secret) and the 
title: Virtue Is Its Own Reward, or 

What A Million Bucks Can Do For 

Co-chairman of Production Ma- 
hany and Chapman, helped by Bar- 
bara Maerker Margie Graham, 
Midge Morris, Sunny Crolt, Betsy 
Conover and Virginia Crouch, an- 
ticipate no trouble. 

Blond Hero 

Chairman of Acting Committee 
McKain is worried chiefly about cast- 
ing the tall blond hero Harry, but 
predicts the villain's mustache-curl- 
ing role will be almost as popular. 
On the committee are Joyce Wal- 
lis, Jane McClung, Ellen Copeland, 
Ruth Patton, Dottie Lou Evans, and 
Emma Hirsh. Busy season starts 
after Xmas with try-outs en masse. 

December 18. 1940 


Page Eleven 



Editors' note: 

This page from now on is for let- 
ters from you. If you desire to give 
an opinion, suggest a constructive 
change or if you just feel like writ- 
ing to us, sit down and do it. We are 
printing your paper and we'd like to 
hear fi'om you. 

Please put your letters in the Ar- 
row mail box in the day students' 

Smoking Room 

To Those Concerned: 

We are unable to ignore any longer 
the disgraceful state of the smoking 
room. Last year, in answer to stu- 
dent requests, this room was en- 
tirely redecorated. Today, to quote 
a prominent PCW official, "it looks 
like a pig pen." 

It is our opinion that the shocking 
lack of respect for student property 
i= due in part, but only in part, to 
the fact that the location of this 
smoking room has never been pop- 
ular. We would like to suggest, 
therefore, that the location be chang- 
ed. One possibility that we would 
like to advance for consideration is 
that the smoking room be transfer- 
ed to the former dorm smoker in 
the basement of Woodland Hall. This 
room, now occupier by Dr. Holbrook, 
is centrally located and has an en- 
trance through the basement so that 
it can be reached without going 
tbronch the dorm. We susge=t that 
pospibly Dr. Holbrook's office could 
be transfered to one of the rooms 
h°inf vacated by organizations mov- 
ing to Andrew Mellon Hall. 

We realize that we cannot get this, 
or any smoking room in the same 
good faith on which we got the other. 
Some guarantee must be given, and 
rightly so, that students will not 
neglect, deface or otherwise abuse 
school property. Therefore, before 
we can make any attempt to investi- 
gate the possibility of a new smok- 
ing room, it is necessary that the 
students show their desire for it by 
improving the condition of the pres- 
ent one. 

Empty Wednesdays 

Dear Editor: 

Wednesday afternoons have, as 
you know, been set aside for activi- 
ties. This sounded very nice to the 
incoming Freshmen — to have a whole 
afternoon in which to go to meetings, 
get to know everyone, and relax from 
the supposed ardors of studying. But 
now, several months later, we find 
ourselves, every Wednesday after- 
noon, tearing madly to and fro, fi-om 
Berry to Woodland and back again, 
from class meeting to rehearsals to 
YW meetings, all scheduled at 1:30. 
A friend of mine just gives up and 
spends Wednesday afternoon in bed, 
and I am tempted to join her. Seri- 
ously, couldn't we have each Wed- 
nesday afternoon planned so that 
meetings wouldn't overlap? It is 
true that someone may feel it a 
waste of time to spend an hour wait- 
ing for a meeting, but hasn't she 
studying which could be done, and 
isn't it better to get the full value 
of one meeting at a time? 


Talking Down 

Chair Hangers 



President SGA. 
President Senior Class. 

To Those Who Use The Den: 

You know, methinks it would be 
a good idea if all members of the so- 
ciety - who - use - den-chairs-as-coat 
hangers would get a swift and hap- 
py inspiration to put their coats in 
the cloak room which, I believe, is 
the place designated for that fine and 
noble purpose. 

Every time we want to sit com- 
fortably (well, semi-comfortably) in 
o'^e of the infrequent chairs in said 
den, we find that only two or three of 
them are devoid of coats, scarfs, etc., 
and even the=e are occupied by peo- 
ple, which is all right of course, only 
sometimes these people are using 
two chairs — one per se and one per 
her wraps. 

Seems as though a share-the- 
chair program would be welcome, 
don't you think? Since we have to 
use the den with all its inadequacies 
for so many things and so many peo- 
ple, this unfortunate habit is very 
disconcerting to a would-be chair 

So, I'm casting my vote for Social- 
ism in the den — or else, a new room 
in Andrew Mellon Hall. 


Concerning Chapel Speakers 

Would it be possible to form a so- 
ciety for protecting and instructing 
chapel speakers? 

They need protection because they 
really are in a hard place, poor 
dears. On whatever subject they 
speak, there are, though they may 
not know it, some persons in their 
audience who are pretty thoroughly 
informed in the subject and there- 
fore pretty much inclined to be crit- 
ical, in a nice way, of course. The 
speaker on a scientific subject is be- 
ing critically scanned by our sci- 
ence experts — faculty and students; 
the political speaker has the econom- 
ics and history and government ma- 
jors hanging on his words, not only 
— as he doubtless fondly imagines — 
to drink in his wisdom but also to 
spot inaccuracies to which he may 
carelessly or blithely give utterance; 
Mr. Sam Pearce, though he did not 
know it, was used as the bright ex- 
ample of diction and dramatic pre- 
sentation for many ensuing classes; 
and Rabbi Lieberman, who spoke 
the other day, had among a uni- 
versally enthusiastic audience some 
few rare souls who actually practice 
t'ne sort of reading he was recom- 
m.e"ding rather more than do the 
club women whom he was appar- 
ently addressing. 

The question is, can we do any- 
thing about it? Would it be possible 
to instruct them? Probably not. 
They will continue to think of us as 
bright-eyed and open-eyed, and they 
will continue to think that they're 
saying something new when they an- 
nounce that they will not talk over 
time because they know that we do 
not want to be kept from our classes. 
They will continue to be unaware of 
carping critics. Perhaps it is just 
as well. 



•^^] __A'.'. WORK. 0UA«ftWTE60 ^ 

SmtRFOiieirTSHOP '^'^sVcfn, 

Pen"? of best makes .SI to SIO 

Nawe e"ffraved free on $2.50 up 



Page Twelve 


December 18, 1940 



If there are any unsuspecting and 
naive people in PCW who read this 
page, let me tell them that most of 
it is filled with "blah" and there is 
little actual sports news. Being a 
good soul and willing to save you 
time, and energy, we will put this at 
the beginning! We could be nasty 
and put it at the end. 

Ping Pong- 
Are you among tlie 266 people who 
didn't know the ping-pong and bad- 
minton tournaments are going on, so 
you didn't sign up? Yes? Well, you 
ought to be spanked! They really 
are playing, and if you're not partic- 
ipating the least you can do is go 
and see some of the matches . You 
could watch your roommate, or may- 
be some of your pals whip off a game, 
and you should be a spectator at 
the finals. We are wondering at 
this point if Midge Norris who won 
the ping-pong cup last spring will 
come through again, or if Jane 
O'Neill, who put up such a battle in 
the finals of the badminton tourney 
will, with her partner Jane Mc- 
Clung run away with tliat contest. 
Maybe Yehudi knows. We don't, 

Flash! Swimming and life saving 
classes will definitely be in full swing 
immediately after Christmas. The 
delay was due to miles of red tape 
involved in getting the permit, and 
the tank suits. According to Miss 
Graham these suits are not too bad. 
Dubonnett and Cadet blue cotton, 
"sort of neat looking." (She saw a 
sample, so we'll take her word.) 
Volley Ball 

Volleyball starts today at 2.30 with 
tlie Red, meeting the Green. If you 
have signed up to play, please make 
every effort to come. One-sided 
games are never any fun, and as they 
stand now, the teams are divided as 
evenly as possible to make for spir- 
ited competition that will bring fun 
to all. 
AVho Shot Cock Robin? 

Rl-'lery at PCW is nrogressing with 
leans and bounds. Plans for a fifty 
fool range are being made by Dr. 
Spencer and Mr. Charlton and tour- 
naments with other colleges are be- 
ing arranged to start in December. 
Last year's marksmen eet first place 
on +bp team and the other meinbers Sp chosen from tlie group of 
fifieen freshmen who tried out. Mem- 
bers of the team to date are: Brice 

Blacl-:, June Hunker, Barbara 
Browne, Betty Gahagan, Ruth Notz, 
Marion Rowell, and Phyllis Keister. 

About Badminton 

Badminton had its origin in India 
and the first special court was con- 
structed in 1873. About that same 
year the sport was introduced in Eng- 
land, from there to Canada and 
thence to the United States. 

Any number of players many play 
the game, but not more than four on 
the same court at one time. It is 
played with racquets, a net, and a 
white object called a bird. This 
bird consists of half a small rubber 
or leather ball with feathers attach- 
ed at one end. The purpose of these 
feathers is to keep the bird from 
moving too ouickly from player to 
nlaver, failing too quickly to the 
floor and being lost sight of while 
in flight. 

"leaving chosen sides in any one 
of the accented manners, dice cast- 
in.o- being barred, the contestants ar- 
range themselves in two's on either 
side of the net which bisects the 
court at or near the middle and con- 
sists of a two and one half gill net 
attached to upright stakes. The net 
should not be to high for the short- 
est contestant to shake hands over 
it. This is very important, for, as 
the game goes on, the handshaking 
becomes more and more frequent, 
until, at the close of the game, all 
four contestants are at the net at 
the same instant, all shaking hands 
with each other. 

Before serving, tlie finishing 
touches to the toilet, forgotten in the 
baste of reaching the court, are com- 
pleted by the players. The ladies 
reari'ange their hair and adjust the 
bang of their kilts, while the gen- 
tlemen effect a more happy compro- 
m-se between shirt and trousers than 
was possible in the dressing room. 

The knee and ankle muscles are 
then flexed in a personal experiment- 
al way. to assure each player that he 
or she is all there. 

The bird is now to be served. The 

side serving the bird assumes the 
simpler poses of the classic dance, 
while tlieir opponents crouch ex- 
pectantly on their side of the net 
waiting for play to begin. The breath 
comes faster through tire parted lips; 
and the played about to receive the 
serve, whose pose is something like 
that of the Discobolus statue, tries 
to dig a foothold for his hind foot in 
the hardwood floor. He is thwarted 
in his attempt, and the game begins 
again. The kilts and trousers are 
readjusted in the light of the new 
experience and better poses are as- 
sumed and play actually com- 

The server drops the bird from his 
left hand, and just before it i-eaches 
the floor he gives it a gentle scoop 
which sends it across the net." (From 
"Description of Badminton by Peter 
Paterson inToronto Star Weekly."). 
Sim^estions To Players 

Keep "On your toes" always. 

Make your placement as far as 
possible from you. 

Make your placement in the por- 
tion of the court where it will be 
least advantageous to your opponent. 

Vary your strokes. Do not depend 
upon one good stroke to make your 

Remember that it is easy to 
"poach" in badminton. Play in your 
own portion of the court. 

Take time on your backcourt re- 
turns. Remember tliat a long flight 
means a slow bird. 

Do not over-use the smash. 

Remember that a bii-d flying 
straight at one is most difficult to re- 
turn. Use this Dlacement occasion- 
ally, and if your opponent uses it, be 
readv to get to one side of it. 

Varv your pace. A slow drop in 
the midst of a swift rally is discon- 

Do no predetermine that a shot 
is .going to be out of court. Re- 
member that a bird on a long return 
will drop almost perpendicularly. 

Learn to return the bird from anyi 
anple and height. 

Keep your eye on the bird con- 

There's joy in the giving and joy in the getting of 
flowers for Christmas 



MO-2144 t 

December 18 19^0 


Page Thirteen 



Oscar was a Mouse, just a little 
Mouse, and he lived with his Momma 
and Poppa, and his Brothers and Sis- 
ters in the walls of a House. Now 
Oscar's Brothers and Sisters were 
big and strong, but Oscar, from the 
time he was very, very little, had re- 
fused to eat his bread crusts. And 
so he was small, and not very strong, 
and a great favorite of his Momma, 
.who made him eat Roquefort cheese 
on Cambric tea-leaves, to build up hi'; 
constitution. Every day, Oscar's 
Brothers and Sisters went to school 
to learn their A B Cheese, and the 
hypotenuse of a loaded trap, but Os- 
car, being rather frail, was kept at 
home by his Momma, and allowed to 
play around the House. He was never 
lonely, though, because the third Hole 
in the Wall from the left opened into 
Jeremy Jr's room, and Oscar and 
Jeremy Jr. were very good friends. 
Every morning Jeremy Jr. was in 
his Play Pen by the window, and 
Oscar and Jeremy Jr. would have the 
most amazing conversations. They 
understood each other perfectly, and 
it was a great source of amazement 
to Jeremy Jr. that his Ma-Ma and 
Da-Da were unable to understand a 
word he said. 

"I suppose," he told Oscar, "it's 
because I don't have any teeth, and t s 
a result my consonants are a bit 

One morning, when Oscar came to 
visit Jeremy Jr., he found him very 
excited. He began to talk as soon as 
Tie saw the tips of Oscar's whiskers 
at the Hole in the Wall. 

■'I heard Ma-Ma talking to Da-Da 
last night," he said, "and they were 
discussing something which is to hap- 
pen next week, and it is called Christ- 
mas, and it sounds very nice." 

Oscar came out of the Hole, and 
sat in a sunny place. His whiskers 
twitched inquisitively. "Christmas? 
What is that, Jeremy Jr.?" 

Jeremy Jr. rolled over on his back, 
and reached for his toes. "I don't 
taiow, exactly," he said. "Ma-Ma 
told Da-Da that it was too bad I 
wasn't old enough so he could play 
Santa Claus, and she hoped Cousin 
Will would add something to my 
bank account, since I was second- 
named for him." 

"Well," said Oscar, wrinkling his 
nose doubtfully, "I shouldn't say that 
Tvas very interesting." 

"Oh," said Jeremy Jr. as he rolled 
back over on his tummy and smiled 
at Oscar, "that isn't all. I am to get 
lots of Presents, and Aunt Prue is 
sending me a lovely, soft fluffy Per- 
sian Kitten." 

Now Oscar, as I have explained, 
was very uneducated, and he had no 
knowledge of Biology, Schiller or 
Natural History. And besides that, 
he had led a very Sheltered Life. So 
his ignorance is excusable. "What," 
he asked, "what is a Kitten?" But 
Jeremy Jr. had fallen asleep and 
did not answer, so after awhile Oscar 
went quietly home. 

That evening. While Oscar's Broth- 
ers and Sisters were doing their 
Home Work, which consisted of a dif- 
ficult problem in trigaGNAWmetry, 
Oscar went up to his Parents. "Pa- 
rents," he said, "do you know what 
next week is?" 

Oscar's Poppa looked up from the 
paper on which he was comparing the 
rate of cheese export with the rate 
of import. "Why no," he said, "un- 
less it's when we go to the Opera to 
see the Waltzing Mice." 

"No," said Oscar proudly, "it's 

Oscar's Momma looked up from the 
Nest she was mending. "Why, so it 
is, my dear," she said. And she call- 
ed all of Oscar's Brothers and Sisters 
to her. "We almost forgot," she said. 
"Next week is Christmas, and you 
must all tell me what you want, and 
I will send the list to Santa Rodentia 

So all of Oscar's Brothers and Sis- 
ters told Oscar's Momma and Poppa 
what the> wanted for Christmas. Os- 
car's Sisters wanted Cheddar and 
Edam and Gorgonzola tartlets, and 
Oscar's Brothers wanted Cheshire 
and Camembert, and some of the 
bigger ones even wanted Limburger! 

Finally it was Oscar's turn. "What 
would you like, dear?" asked his 
Momma. "Some Cream Cheese? Or 
maybe some Gruyere Aigrettes?" 

But Oscar squeaked disdainfully at 
these. "No," he said, "I want a Kit- 

Oscar's Poppa squeaked with rage, 
and Oscar's Momma bit her lip, and 
Oscar's Brothers and Sisters curled 
up in horrified silence. Then his 
Momma spoke. "Some nice sharp 
Banbury cheese, or may even some 
Essex?" But Oscar twirled his tail 
and stamped on his whiskers and 

made angry noises. "No," he said. 
"No, NO, NO! I want a Kitten— a 
nice soft fluffy Kitten, and that's all 
I want for Christmas!" 

Long after Oscar and his Brothers 
and Sisters had gone to bed, Oscar's 
Momma and Poppa talked. Oscar's 
Poppa was very angry indeed. "A 
kitten indeed!" he said. "Is he a man 
or is he a mouse?" 

And Oscar's Momma was also very 
upset. "But he's so little," she wept, 
"and I don't want him to gi-ow up so 
fast. I just can't tell him the Facts 
of Life!" 

Then indeed was Oscar's Poppa an- 
gry! "This all comes of your cod- 
dling him, and not letting him go to 
school, as any upstanding mouse 
should. I'm going out!" And he 
scampered away into the corridor. 
Oscar's Momma followed him. "Os- 
car Senior," she squeaked, "don't you 
dare go down to the wine cellar, or 
I'll take the children and go home 
to Mother!" 

The next day, as soon as Oscar had 
eaten his Oatmeal, he hurried to see 
Jeremy Jr. He found him fuming 
over his fingers, which were taped. 
"It's very annoying," Jeremy Jr. be- 
gan, on seeing Oscar — "to have one's 
thumbs covered in this manner. The 
constitution guarantees everyone the 
right to the Pursuit of Happiness, and 
when I get a voice, I intend to declare 
this thumb-guard business unconsti- 

Oscar scampered into the room. 
"Guess what, Jeremy Jr.? I told my 
Parents I want a Kitten for Christ- 
mas. Did yours come yet?" 

"No." said Jeremy, Jr., "but some- 
thing came for it. It's over there on 
the floor." And he pointed with the 
offending thumb. 

Oscar followed the direction. "Oh," 
he said, "why, it's a mouse." 

Jeremy Jr. took his mouth away 
from his bandaged thumb. "Just 
wait till I get my teeth — i'll show 
'em. What's that you say, Oscar? A 
mouse? I don't think so. Ma-Ma 
said it was a Cat-Nip." 

Oscar approached the Thing on the 
floor. "It looks like a mouse," he 
said. "It's grey . . ."he began to 
ciicle the Thing — "it has two ears — 
and a nose — and a tail." 

Jeremy Jr. peered interestedly be- 
tween the bars of his Play Pen. 

"It hasn't moved," he said, "since 

P^<?e Fourteen 


December 18, 1940 


Ma-Ma put it there." He beat his 
fists against the bars. "If I had my 
teeth, I'd bite it!" 

Oscar shivered. He was a very- 
timid mouse, but the implication be- 
hind Jeremy Jr.'s words was too plain 
to be ignored. So, on shaking legs, 
he approached the Thing, and nipped. 
Then he scampered back to the Hole. 
In a few minutes, he peeked out. The 
Thing hadn't moved. But in Oscar's 
mouth there was the loveliest taste — 
like cracker crumbs and dew. He 
came out of the Hole, and it seemed 
as though he were floating. 

Jeremy Jr. was chasing a sunbeam. 
"What did you run for, Oscar?" he 
asked. "Were you scared?" 

"Me, scared?" said Oscar. "Why 
I'm the bravest mouse — I'm braver 
than any mouse — I'm as brave as a 
R-A-T, and a great big one at that!" 
And he jumped on the Thing, and 
nipped it again and again. Now his 
head felt as a big and empty as 
Jeremy Jr.'s rattle, and he wanted 
to dance. His whiskers went up and 
down, and he ran around and around 
after his tail. 

"I say, old fellow," Jeremy Jr. re- 
marked, "You're acting most pecu- 

The Truth was that Oscar was 
drunk on Catnip! There was a buzz- 
ing in his ears, and he leaped high 
in the air again and again. He didn't 
even hear the sound of approaching 
footsteps. Closer and closer they 
came, and it was Jeremy Jr.'s Ma-Ma 
and Da-Da. 

"My God!" said Da-Da. "IT'S a 

Jeremy Jr. began to weep with 
shame at the ignorance of Da-Da, 
who didn't know the difference be- 
tween a rat and a mouse. His Ma- 
Ma began to weep too. "My Baby," 
she sobbed, "did ou gettum fwighten- 
ed?" This double ignomy was more 
than Jeremy Jr. could bear, and he 
held his ears and howled. In the 
midst of the confusion, Oscar stag- 
gered through the Hole in the Wall, 
and went weaving home. 

Oscar's Brothers saw him first — • 
and they were Horrified! Then Os- 
car"s Sisters saw him — and they were 
Horrified! Then Oscar's Momma saw 
him — and she was very Horrified! 
She wept and wailed and gnashed 
her tail. "It comes from your Pop- 
pa's side of the family," she said. 
"Ever since Prof. Valentine made 
those alcoholic aptitude tests on your 

Great Great Great Great Great Great 
Great Great Grandfather Oscar Sr., 
the Oscars have aU been topers!" 
She dissolved in tears. 

Just then Oscar Sr. came in. 
"What's all the commotion?" he ask- 
ed. "You'd think from the noise that 
someone had invented a better 

"Don't' you speak to me, you Arch 
Rodent!" said Oscar's Momma. "Look 
where your example has led my 
Oscar. He's been to the wine cellar!" 
Oscar's Poppa looked at Oscar, who 
by now was a very sick mouse. 
"Curds and Whey," said Oscar's Pop- 
pa, being by nature a profane mouse. 
"To the wine-cellar you say?" He 
meditated a moment. "It's funny I 
didn't see him." 

Oscar's Momma bristled. "What?" 
she said. 

Oscar's Poppa became very con- 
fused. "Now m'dear," he said, "I was 
just passing by, and I thought I'd 
look in and see if anyone had drop- 
ped some caviar — or something." 

Oscar's Momma began to cry. "You 
ingrate . . ." she said; "you — you 

"Now, now," said Oscar's Poppa. 
"Don't let's have a scene before the 

"How dare you!" said Oscar's mom- 
ma. "I'll have you know my house 
is as clean as anyone's." 

"I wasn't referring to your house, 
Madam," said Oscar's Poppa, "I was 
referring to your offspring!" 

And sure enough, Oscar's Brothers 
and Sisters were listening wide-eared, 
to their Poppa and Momma — but Os- 
car was asleep in the corner, with a 
peaceful expression around his 
whiskers. So Oscar's Momma and 
Poppa went out into the hall and 
talked quietly long into the night. 

The next day, Oscar's Momma told 
Oscar that they were moving next 
door to the Parsonage. "The atmos- 
phere will be very uplifting," she 

So Oscar went to say good-bye to 
Jeremy Jr. — but the Hole in the 
Wall was stopped up. But Oscar 

could hear Jeremy Jr. talking. 

"Yes," Jeremy Jr. was saying — 
"my friend Oscar should be here now. 
I'm quite anxious for you to meet 

Then Oscar heard another Voice — a 
low and purry Voice — a deep and 
rumbly Voice, which caused the hairs, 
on Oscar's neck to rise. 

"Yes," said the Voice, "I'm quite 
anxious to Eat him!" 

"What did you say. Kitten?" asked 
Jeremy Jr. 

"I said," repeated the Voice, "I'lL 
be very glad to Meat him." 

"Oh," said Jeremy Jr. 

Oscar hurried home — and he was- 
very frightened. "Momma," he said,, 
"oh. Momma." 

"Yes, dear," said Oscar's Momma,, 
who had decided that Oscar wasn't 
to be blamed for his Paternal An- 
cestors' inbreeding. 

"Momma, have you bought my 
Christmas present yet?" 

"No, dear," said Oscar's Momma,- 
her whiskers trembling. 

"Well," said Oscar, "if you don't, 
care, I think I'll change my mind." 

Oscar's Momma smiled. "Thank 
Goodness," she breathed to herself, 
"now he'll never Know." 

So Oscar and his Momma and Pop- 
pa and Brothers and Sisters moved 
to the Parsonage, and became up- 
standing Churchmice. On Christmas 
Eve they all squeaked the carols from, 
behind the organ loft, and every- 
thing was very lovely except Oscar's- 
Poppa, who had found the Commu- 
nion wine, and squeaked "Drink to- 
Me Only" while everyone else was- 
doing "Noel." On Christmas day Os- 
car's Sisters were very happy with 
their Edam and Gorgonzola tartlets,, 
and Oscar's Brothers were veiy hap- 
py with their Cheshire and Camem- 
bert (they didn't get any Limburgei- 
because the Parson didn't keep any- 
thing that strong). And Oscar was" 
very happy, too, because his Poppa 
had given him Robert Browning's. 
"To a Mousie" and after he had di- 
gested this he felt very learned in- 

I To make the holiday complete send flowers 


IHOntrose 7777 

HAzel 1012 

December 10 1940 


Page Fifteen 


A FAIRY TALE by Marden Armstrong 

Once long ago, when the mistletoe 
covered the hills like snow, and the 
song of the cricket was sweet music, 
a happy child lived with his moth- 
■er in a thatched cottage, and played 
on the village green with the other 
•children. He was fair to look upon, 
with skin as pale as the moon, and 
his eyes were like dark sapphires. 
His hair was the color of liquid 
honey from the hive of the bee. And 
his name was Arion. 

To this child was given much 
understanding, and the leaders of 
the village marvelled at his wisdom. 
He knew why the pale asters grew 
on the hillside in the autumn, and 
where the great stars went when 
they fell burning across the sky in 
thin ribbons of light. He knew the 
calls of the birds, and was a brother 
to the wild beasts, and the little 
green green turtles were his friends. 

The good people of the village 
wondered at him, but the children 
loved him, and they played long' 
games together, and he taught them 
many curious things. 

Now the child Arion grew, and 
waxed strong until his twelfth year, 
and it happened upon a day that the 
Sim was shining bright, that he and 
his comrades v/ere racing on the 
green, laughing at one another and 
making much noise. In the midst of 
the merriment the boy Arion stop- 
ped, and a puzzled look crept over 
his face. 

"See," he said to his comrades, "Is 
it not strange? I have no shadow like 
the rest of you." 

And the boys ceased their play 
and came to look at him. Most sure- 
ly it was true. He stood tall and 
supple as a young hemlock in the 
sunlight, but no grey shadow did he 
cast like the others. The boys began 
to murmur quietly among themselves 
and wonder at such a curious thing. 
For with them always in the sun 
were their own shadows, now as 
■wide as a peasant's cart, and now 
as slim as a twig. 

"Surely this is a most terrible 
thing," said one boy. 

"Perhaps he is bewitched," said 

And they ran away from him, and 
would not come near to him even 
though he called to them. The boy 
Arion was very sad, for his friends 
had deserted him. 

So it happened that he remem- 
bered old Hedi, the wise man of the 
village, who knew many things, and 
could prophesy of the future, and 
tell many old stories of the past, and 
he sought him to ask his counsel. 
Straight forward he made his way 
to the cottage where the may tree 
bloomed and each stone in the yard 
had a wrinkled face. There he found 
the old man tending a geranium 

"Old Hedi," said Arion, "you are 
wise and I am in sore distress and 
in need of counsel. For I am not 
like the other boys. I have no shadow, 
and they say that I am bewitched 
and run away from me. What shall 
I do?" 

The old man peered at him intent- 
ly, and the bright red blossom in his 
fingers quivered as in a great wind. 
His faded eyes grew bright with 
wonder, for he knew the meaning 
of this. 

"Ah, child," he answered, and his 
thin voice cracked, "be content as 
you are, for surely you will find 

"I shall never find happiness un- 
til I can again play with my com- 
rades," declared the boy. 

And a long, low pleading was in 
his voice, and his dark eyes glowed 
with it. 

"I beg of you, old Hedi, tell me 
where I can find my shadow, for I 
shall never rest until it is beside me 

"Then," said Hedi, "you must trav- 
el far, into the land of the Dark 
Forest, where the caves are many 
and deep, and the wind is always 
cold. The long branches of the trees 
there are like impatient fingers ever 
tugging at your coat. Here glide 
brown snakes and the deer is afraid 
and runs away, and the nights are 
long with the strange calling of 

"At the end of this great wood you 
will come to the home of the Great 
Dark One, you will know it because 
of the strange symbols on the door, 
painted in the scarlet of the fire. The 
Great Dark One will tell you what 
things you must do to find your 

Thus old Hedi spoke, and ceased. 
He turned into his cottage and closed 
the door. The boy Arion stood alone 
in the sunset. 

It would take high courage to pen- 
etrate this land, but the desire for 
a shadow overcame all fear, and 
the child walked doviTi the road to- 
ward the Dark Forest. 

Night came swiftly, like a soft 
still lady on a black horse, and all 
around him night things whispered 
and chanted strange songs, and the 
moon rose and hung in the sky like 
a forgotten melody. 

But still the fair young boy went 
on, battling wfith the tendrils of the 
vines that sought to trap him, and 
clambering over the rocks which 
hid the treacherous deep caves, and 
when the morning broke he stood be- 
fore the home of the Great Dark One, 
and marvelled at the secret symbols 
glowing livid in the sun's full rays. 
With his hand he beat upon the 
door, and when it opened the Great 
Dark One saw him standing there 
like a pale anemone in the sun, and 
was dazzled, and drew back. 

But Arion was unafraid, and in a 
loud clear voice he called, 

"Oh Great Dark One help me, for 
I have need of you." 

And the Great Dark One being 
called upon, stepped out from his 
cave and answered. 

"What would you have me say?" 
"I am indeed the most unhappy 
among youth, for I possess no shad- 
ow," said Arion, "what must I do 
to gain one?" 

The Great Dark One was sOent for 
a long while, and the hawks flew 
screaming about his head. And then 
he answered. 

"It will be difficult indeed for you, 
for many things must you do. You 
must snatch the coin from the rag- 
ged pockets of the blind beggar and 
crush the shells of the little green 
turtles under your foot. The loveliest 
flowers you must tear from the tulip 
tree and cast before the swine, and 
you must mock at the maimed and 
the poor. These things and many 
more you do to gain a shadow." 

And the child was sick at heart 
for he knew that he could not do 
these things, and he turned away 

But he thought again of the merry 
friendship of his comrades, and turn- 
ed back. Approaching, he called, 

"Oh Great Dark One, I have come 
back. I will do as you bid, for my 

Page Sixteen 


December 18, 1940 


longing tor a shadow is beyond all 

The Great Dark One reached out 
and touched him with thin dry fing- 
ers and said, 

"Go then, and when you have done 
these things, then shall you have a 

The boy Arion left, and when he 
met a blind beggar on the road, he 
snatched the copper from his pocl-iet, 
and ran away laughing. And the 
little green turtles who had been 
his friends he trampled under foot, 
and cast the lovely blooms of the 
tulip tree before the swine. And all 
the while he laughed. 

When he came again to the vil- 
lage green he ran up to his comrades 
who were playing then and cried, 

"See, now I am one with you, for 
I too have a shadow." 

And beside him danced his imp- 
ish gray shadow. 

The boys laughed, and welcomed 
him as one of them again, but as 
he played with them, he often struclc 
the little ones, and the weak ones 
he sent rolling to the ground, and 
pelted them with stones. 

Soon the other boys ran and hid 
because they were afraid of him, and 
one called loudly. 

"We wiU not play with you for 
you are so evil. Your shadow is 
nothing but all the wicked things 
which you have done and it will al- 
ways follow close beside you. No, 
we will not play with you, for you 
have changed." 

And so saying he and the others 
ran away. 

The boy Arion stood in the middle 
of the green and he knew that he 
had changed. His face was still as 
fair, and his dark sapphire eyes were 
the same. But his great wisdom was 
gone, and his sight was blurred. And 
he stood alone in the sunlight with 
his shadow close beside him. 


The long sigh of the wind among the 

Is like the wail of a fairy changeling 

At Tara's gates. 

And below on the rocks 

The sea and the gulls 

Are keening gently for the dead; 

While here beneath the rose-tree 
in the dooryard 

A dark-haired woman sits 

Plucking at the harp-strings of Sor- 





One Round 

Way Trip 

Youngstown ....fl.OO $1.80 
Parkersburg . . . 3.00 5.40 

Cleveland 1.90 3.45 

Akron 1.90 3.45 

Lexington, Ky.. 5.45 9.85 

Canton 1.66 3.00 

Toledo 3.50 (1.30 

Winston Salem. 7.80 14.05 

Detroit 4.25 7.65 

Columbus 2.90 5.25 

Cincinnati 4.50 8.10 

Indianapolis . . . 5.25 9.45 

Johnstown .... 1.15 2.10 

Harrisburg .... 3.75 6.75 

Chambersburg . 3.05 5.50 

Baltimore 4.85 8.75 

Philadelphia ... 5.25 9.46 

New York 6.60 11.90 

Chicago 6.G0 11.90 

Fort Wayne 4.75 8.55 

'"T^HE reindeer has had his day," 
-^ says the well-known Mr. Claus. 
"I'm getting just as modern as the 
college crowd this year — I'm going 
by Greyhound and really enjoy my 

That's a break for the old fellow 
who's always giving everybody else 
a break. Like you, he'll enjoy the 
warmth and comfort and friendliness 
of a Super-Coach trip. 

Perhaps you'll meet him on your way 
home for the Holidays — anyway you'll 
think there's a Santa Claus around 
somewhere when you figure out how 
much you save going by Greyhound. 
Merry Christmas! 

Liberty At Grant GR. 5700 


Distinctive styles for the College Girl 

On Campus — At the Game 


-For Tea- 
MO. 6490 

At the Dance 

December 18. 1940 


Page Seventeen 


Christmas Horses 

I like Christmas. In fact, I love 
Christmas. But there is one thing 
about it that worries me every year, 
and I never get around to finding 
out about it. 

What happens to the police horses 
that have to work on Christmas Day? 
Do they get time and a half for over- 
time? Do they have the right of 
collective bargaining? Does some- 
body slip in an extra handful of oats 
or corn or sugar or whatever it is 
that is necessary to make the equine 
Christmas merry? Or do the grooms 
go callously on their way, indifferent 
to the finer things in a horse's 

I have often thought that some 
time 1 shall get around to making a 
startling expose of conditions in 
police stables. I shall walk in pre- 
tending to visit one of the horses, 
but all the time, my sharp eyes will 
be making a complete survey of con- 

"How've you been, old man?" I 
will say to the hoi'se, casting a 
questioning glance in the direction 
of the feed box. "Getting enough to 
eat these days?" I'll ask to throw 
the groom off the track. It doesn't 
matter what he may say, those babies 
are too tough to squeal anyway, but 
I'll have found out all I want to 
know, and I will stalk out of the 
stall with all the dignity I can mus- 

"See here," I will snarl angrily to 
the stable boy (preferring to practice 
my technique on the small fry before 
on the Man Behind It All), "see here, 
do you know what day this is?" 

"So what?" he'll say, not even 
bothering to fix me with a glassy 

"Think," I will say eloquently, 'of 
the traditions of Christmas! Think 
of the horses that used to draw our 
grandfathers' carriages. Were they 
forgotten when it came around to 
passing out tasty tidbits at Christ- 
mas time? No! They could even 
have had a bite of the turkey if 
they had wanted it. Are we less 
charitable than our grandfathers? 
Have we become decadent? Do we 
no longer consider the comfort of 
others? I ask you," I will boom forth 
coming to the climax, "has our civil- 
ization come to this? Not even a 
red bow?" 

"Listen, Bud," the boy will answer, 

"that horse is gettin' more than I'm 
gettin' this Christmas, and if things 
get any tougher, that stall's goin' 
to be the place that I call home. Now, 
get the hell out of here, I've got 
work to do." 

On second thought I think I'll make 
a survey of what happens to stable 
boys on Christmas Day. The horse 
wouldn't appreciate my efforts any- 
way. And besides I may soon be 
moving in with the stable boy — and 
the horse. 

J. S. B. 

A Christmas Song 

Red lies the rose on the white, white 

Gold lay the curls on the little Lord's 

Sweet was the smile on Mary's lips 
As she sang to her child in his little 

straw bed. 
Awed at the sight of the sheplierds 

To kneel in the light of the glorious 


Laden with gifts tlie wise kings came 
And left silently, one by one. 

Red lies the rose on the white, white 

Blue glowed the stars in the little 

Lord's eyes. 
Sweet was the song that Mary sang. 
As she looked on her child so pure 

and wise. 
All the night through the angels 

And spread their wings so soft and 

Above His head to l<;eep Him safe, 
To keep our precious Lord from 


Red lies the rose in the white, white 

Bright was the light at the little 
Lord's head 

Sweet was the joy His Mother 

To see her child sleep in his little 
straw bed. 

And all the good folk will kneel to- 

For blessed are they that live in 

To thank God for His lovely son, 

Sent dovwi to us from heaven above. 

No Crib ... 

The pageant was coming along' 
beautifully. The first two scenes 
had been enacted with only minor 
mishap?. Miss McConnell, the Chil- 
dren's Sunday School teachers, had 
held her breath as Tommy Ander- 
son Iiad recited his lines about frank- 
incenst and myrrh. He had mis- 
pronounced frankincense and had 
needed to be prompted once, but he 
had i-eally done better than she had 
dared to hope. The children's sing- 
ing was not everything that could 
be asked for, but after all, isn't that 
part of the charm of such perform- 
ances? The cheesecloth robes seem- 
ed to bother Martha and Sally Lou, 
for they kept fussing with them, but 
thank goodness they hadn't tripped. 

"I certainly hope this next scene 
goes well," whispered Miss HcCon- 
npll to Miss Davis, another teacher. 
"There can't be anything amusing 
;^bout the manger scene . . . Here, 
Jimmy, let me tie your sash. Now 
remember, don't drop that staff." 

Miss McConnell hurried off to see 
what was keeping Joan, the "Vir- 
gin Marv." It was really time to be- 
gin, for the scene was set and every- 
one else was ready. Joan, plus an- 
other safety-pin, ran quickly to her 
nlace on the stage. "Don't they look 
lovely?" whispered Miss Davis. "I 
think Joan makes a beautiful 
'Mary.' " 

But what was the trouble? As the 
curtain opened, a few people tittered. 
The undercurrent of amusement 
spread. The whole audience was 
suDoressing laughter. Miss McCon- 
nell glanced frantically over the 
s^aee. From her position in the wings 
evervthing loked all right, everyone's 
costume was on straight. Billy Stone, 
unaware of the reaction of the audi- 
ence, had started his lines. But the 
commotion was continuing. One old- 
er bov laughed aloud. Miss McCon- 
nell kept scanning the stage. What 
could be the matter? . . . Oh, the 
mnnger, the manger! The soap box 
covered with crepe-paper. It was 
turned wit hthe back toward the 
audience. In large bold letters 
were: "99 44/100% PURE." 



Page Fighteen 


December 18, 1940 


THE ORANGE LIGHT by Jane Zacharias 

The large Gulf sign blinked into 
her room, vivid, glaring, orange. It 
was the only touch she had with the 
world outside her window. She was 
too high to hear the noises from the 
street. The walls of her room were 
too thick to admit any sound from 
the corridor or from the rooms on 
either side. The nurse would be 
back in ten minutes. She was alone. 

Upstairs there would be the huge, 
white lights, and doctors and nurses 
wearing sterilized gowns, their faces 
covered with masks, their hands red 
and inhumanly smooth in rubber 
gloves. There would be the operat- 
ing table, long, hard, narrow. The 
instrument table would be covered 
with a painfully clean cloth hiding 
the shining, sharp steel instruments. 
There would be the heavy air of im- 
portance as each person meticulously 
performed his duty. 

She would be laid on the table, her 
arms and legs fastened down by mus- 
lin bands . Her face would be cov- 
ered with the ether mask. The oper- 
ation would be begun. 

The Gulf light annoyed her as it 
flashed into her eyes every other 
minute. She would have her room 
changed after the operation. She 
didn't want to spend the next two or 
three weeks automatically counting 
the flashes from an orange light. She 
would ask for a room on the other 
side of the hospital, one with a west- 
ern exposure so she could have the 
afternoon sun. 

Panic - stricken, she suddenly 
thought that she might never see the 
afternoon sun again. People died on 
the operating table. Sometimes they 
died after the operation. She turned 
her head toward the wall as she tried 
not to think about that. She wouldn't 
die; that couldn't happen to her. 

But other people died on the op- 
erating table; other people no better, 
no worse than she; people who had 
more reason to live than she, people 
who had less reason to live. People 
who enjoyed living, who enjoyed 
dancing, riding, reading, as she did. 
They died on operating tables. The 
sui-geon had looked very grave as he 
made his examination. Perhaps she 
would die, too. 

She twisted her feet and jerked the 
bedding from its secure holding at 
the foot of the bed. She had to do 
something, she couldn't just lie there 
while the operating room was being 

prepared. She would die up there; 
they couldn't operate. She had to 

She stared in front of her, seeing 
again the flashing of the hideous 
orange light. On and off, on and off, 
at regular intervals. Exactly like a 
life, she thought. A moment of life, 
then death and an eternity. It 
mustn't be like that with her. She 
mustn't die; she didn't know any- 
thing about dying. She had never 
considered death as anything but the 
inevitable for the aged. When preach- 
ers had spoken of the glories of 
heaven, she had looked at the old 
people in the congiegation and won- 
dered how they must feel. It had 
never occurred to her to apply the 
feeling to herself. 

That light, blinking impertinently, 
upset her. She tried to turn so she 
could bury her face in the pillow and 
shut out the light. The movement 
hurt so much that she gave a tiny 
scream and rolled over on her back 

She wished the nurse had not gone 
out of the room. She had boasted 
that she was not frightened and 
would be glad of a few minutes alone. 
She glanced at her watch, they hadn't 
taken it fiom her yet. It had been 
only five minutes since the nurse had 
left her. Her nerves must be get- 
ting the better of her if she objected 
to a little solitude. 

The light reflected the cream color- 
ed door, which was carefully closed. 
Perhaps they had forgotten her. Per- 
haps they had decided her condition 
was not so serious and would not op- 
erate until morning. That would 
give her time to compose herself. 

The door was isolating her from 
the world outside in the corridor. 
When it opened, the nurse would 
come in to wheel her up to the op- 
erating room. She looked at the 
door steadily for a minute. Did it 


seem to move? No, it was just a 
shadow. But weren't there voices 
outside, the nurse and the interne 
coming in for her? 

She couldn't allow them to take her 
upstairs, put her on a hard table, hide 
her face with an ether mask. She 
couldn't die that way. She would 
rather die suddenly, quickly, without 
any fuss. 

She was seven stories from the 
ground. The fall should kill her in- 
stantly. The window was open as far 
as the ventilator. She could easily 
lift out the ventilator and push the 
window higher. A quick movement 
and she would be on the sill. A last 
thought and she would relax her 
hold. In the space of a minute it 
would all be over. That was the way. 
Why should she die on an operating 
table, cut open, bleeding, smothered 
in ether? But she would have to act 
quickly the nurse might come baclt 
to take her upstairs. Then she would 
be powerless. 

She sat up in bed and tried to 
swing her feet out over the edge. That 
biting pain, not as bad as it had been 
before they brought her to the hos- 
pital, was still bad enough to make a 
black mist in front of her eyes. She 
would rest a minute and try again. 
Nothing must stop her; it was the 
only way. It was quick, voluntary, 

She must ti-y again. This time she 
would be prepared against the pain; 
she would not allow herself to weak- 
en. She must be brave, only for a 

The orange light glared into the 
room. She listened to make certain 
that there was no one outside the 
door. She had only a few moments. 

She lay flat on her back while she 
counted up to twenty-five. That 
would give the pain time to subside. 

She was up to twenty-one now; it 
was almost time. She tried to sit up 
as the orange light flashed into the 
room, outlining the figure of the 
nurse as she opened the door. 


I Corsages - - Cut Flowers - - Decorations 

CHurchill 0373 

812 Wood Street 

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December 18. 1940 


Page Nineteen 


If I had been a shepherd child that 

And knelt to see the holy starlight fill 
The sl^y, and sparkle down on every 

To wake the world with joy at the 

And sound of angels singing, then 

I might 
Have seen the birth of wondrous 

love that still 
Burns white and bright and pure 

and warm until 
It sheds abroad from Christian 

heights its light. 
Yet when I hear sweet carol verses 

At Christmas time through white 

and silent snow, 
Remembering the little Lord so 

My heart would with the radiant an- 
gels sing, 
And I am filled with joy as great, I 

As that of any raptured shepherd 





City of steel; 


Child of three rivers; 


Filthy, with the dust of two cen- 
turies on your buildings. 

Brutal, with the look of hunger and 
bitterness on the faces of the men 
who linger on your river banks. 

Gay, — your huge hotels, theaters, 
night clubs tell that. 

Pittsburgh — 

Elemental as the sun. 

Pittsburgh — 

Some thinlv you a cultured critic 
with youi' conservatory, museum, 
art gallery, colleges, ivy-covered 
mansions, your Syrian concert hall. 

But they are false fronts: 

You are not cultured, 


You are brawny and coarse, lilce the 
men who labor in your roaring 
mills; live as they who think you 
are a cultured critic are wrong, 

Pittsburgh — 

City of steel , 

Child of three rivers. 




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Page Twenty 


December 18, 1940 

God rest ye merry gentlemen^^ 


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Merry Christmas 

Vol. XX Pennsylvania College for Women, Pittsburgh, Pa., February 19, 1941